


Where We Don't Belong

by Narryfavoritejiall



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, But not a zombie one tho, Character Death, Father-Son Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinda, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Panic Attacks, Past Violence, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Sad Ending, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-01-15 07:58:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12316980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narryfavoritejiall/pseuds/Narryfavoritejiall
Summary: In a world where the climate change, lack of resources, violence, disintegration of society and a government that doesn't know how to act against extreme bearings; a man found reassurance and consolation in young boy he found in need of help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I hope you like this new idea. This story contains, mentions of rape, underage and violence, so if you can feel uncomfortable don't read:) and it'll be a really short fic.
> 
> Sorry for the mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

> The days of punishment have come, the days of retribution have come; Let Israel know this! The prophet is a fool, the inspired man is demented. And there is only hostility in the house of God.
> 
>                                  —Hosea 9:7-8
> 
>  

 

_"Do you believe in God?" The young boy asked._

 

_"There's no time to think about that, kid," Tony shrugged, the noise of shouts and disturbance were starting to fade away._

 

_"Do you think he exist?"_

 

_"Looking at our circumstances now days; no, I don't think he exist."_

 

_"My aunt used to say that he will protect me when she stopped being around," Peter whispered._

 

_"If you believe in him, he may."_

 

_"But, you protect me," The boy sat up and stared at the man, "So, I don't need to believe in him, right?"_

 

_Tony closed his eyes and patted his shoulder, signaling him to lay down again, "Let's go back to sleep, kid."_

 

* * *

* * *

 

The streets and buildings were now covered in white, the abandoned cars had broken windows and sometimes a body was buried in the snow, where only a purple face was visible. Everything was grey, the sun hasn't come out in a year and the thick coats and scarfs didn't feel enough to bear the extreme temperatures; the camps that the government and ONU placed in each district were now desolated, they were longer gone since the food started to run out and the people started to fight like hungry animals.

 

At 2:45 PM, the clocks stopped, a bright blaze was seen in the sky and then all the electric devices and lights turned off. 

 

Tony remembers the frenzy and aberration, the lost faith and unexplainable fear that filled the homes and people. He remembers going with to the  _almost_ empty supermarkets, to the closed down stores and burned gas stations. The provisions he got in the first days of the  ** _'Doomsday'_** were a few, with the promise of the government that they will get more; he learned that in a contingency situation it didn't matter if you had money or if you were rich,  _or_ if you were important or if you were not —Because, he was Tony Stark, the multimillionaire and he was now looking for food and hiding away in old houses. All the elitist society, the social classes and labels of the poor and the rich, were gone since the president was killed; and all of the people forgot about the old civilization.

 

The first time he saw the boy, was when Tony walked into a big camp in wich the residents seemed nice enough; they had measured food, water, light generators and diesel fuel. He saw him sitting in a tree trunk, with worned out clothes and a big coat, the expression on his young features was a scared one as he held a can of beans. The cold breeze made his nose red and his thin lips were dry and purple, he looked sick and weak and Tony felt bad when the young guys in the there, passed and slapped his head with loud laughs; the brown eyes found his own when he stared for too long and Tony looked away immediately when he saw a bruise in the boy's eye —Howold could that kid be? And why did he seemed  _so_ broken?—

 

Tony stayed for seven days straight, the false illusion that he had when he thought that maybe,  _that_  place could be good and prosperous, with happy smiles and fun hobbies, but it was shattered when he went to sleep at night in his tent and he _painfully_ listened to the women yowling, begging and screaming  _'Stop!'_ —His ears and head hurt from the lack of sleep, the impotency he felt after doing nothing when he heard the cries and the children's screams.

 

It was fucking horrendous, disturbing and just  _sick,_ how Tony got used to them and the smell of death, how he became apathetic and only looked for his own good. He was losing himself in a trance where nothing mattered but _survive_ and remain selfish. The man watched how the camp worked and he hated with an impressive rage, he was going to stay less than seven days, he was going to leave sooner, but that  ** _goddamn_** kid impeded him. The little humanity that was left in him was when he got to see the boy, he didn't even knew his name or age, all that Tony knew was that he was alone and in danger.

 

Tony tried to ignore it - _him-_ for the very first day since he arrived. He  _really_ tried. 

 

But, he couldn't bring himself to do it —Not when he saw almost every day how the kid got hurt and harmed by the other male residents —He was  _just_  a kid for fucksake!

 

Since the first day he would watch how the people pushed him around, shushed him and slapped him heartlessly —Like a worthless, old doll— He always was sporting a new, small bruise and splitted, bloody lip; that Tony once ask about to an old lady and she just shrugged. Tony first started standing behind or next to the boy when the other residents choose to start tormenting him, then he started placing his hands in the other's chest when they got too close to the boy and he would sometimes push them away.

 

He was risking his  _own_ life, he knows that; but his reward was when the kid gave him a small smile and a secret hug in wich Tony would stayed still and walk away instantly. He was getting attached, with the peculiar want of  _wanting_ to protect and guarde the boy, even if he hasn't had a conversation longer than 2 minutes, a commitment and  _even_ if he still didn't knew the boy's name.

 

Tony remembers the first time that his heart ached in a long time —Since the Doomsday or since everything went to shit. It was late at night and almost everyone was asleep, but what kept him from dozing off, was the loud whimpers and broken whispers, he tried to turn around and covered his ears, but they noises were getting louder and louder. He got up abruptly when a scream echoed and it made a few people groan and curse; Tony walked through the dark, his only light was the moon and the few flashlights that some residents had on, he tripped with branches and almost crashed with the dead trees, but he kept walking until the crying and sniveling became more clear.

 

He remembers  _too_ when his body turned cold and his hands shook in rage when he found the tragedy and affliction —It was the kid that has been sorrowing.

 

" _Hey!_ " Tony exclaimed, "What the fuck are you doing?"

 

The brown eyes that always were soft and submissive, now seemed fearful and terrified when the looked at Tony. The boy was being held down in the ground by an middle age guy that was always yelling and laughing at the cruel sorroundings in the camp; and he was now laughing as he was trying to pull down the boy's pant with one hand and the other was covering his mouth.

 

"Help," The kid's muffled mumbled sounded weakly.

 

Tony's insides twisted in disgust, wondering if this wasn't the first time that the boy was in that  _awful_ position or if his cries were the same that he kept hearing in the night since he arrived. He hated himself.

 

"Let go of the kid," Tony got closer.

 

The guy looked up and then turned back around when the boy yelped and tried to kneel him in the ribs, he slapped the boy, it echoed in the small space and Tony winced.

 

"I said, let go of the kid," He moved his hand to were his gun was resting in the side of his hip, "Come on, man. Don't do this."

 

"Is he your daddy?" The guy laughed and licked the boy's cheek, he looked at Tony then, showing a smile with rotten teeth, "Would daddy be ok if I borrow his child for a night?" 

 

"Sick bastard," Tony pointed the gun at him, watching the smile widening, he mumbled, "He's only a kid.  _Get away_. I'll fucking shoot you in the head if you don't, man."

 

It was all a rush, filled with hastiness and uncertainty; and he didn't knew how he moved so fast and how he was still alive when he jumped and hit the guy in the head with the back of his gun, the groan rang in his ears and he watched him fall back against a tree, he hit him again with disgust when he saw his unbuttoned jeans and opened flannel. Tony was relieved when the guy's eyes closed, but his breathing was still strong and his chest was still moving.

 

The boy run towards him and hide behind him, gripping his jacket and he felt his head against his back; Tony didn't knew if it was the fear or bleakness that got him bringing an arm behind himself and holding the boy closed as they backed away slowy, the gun still aiming at the guy —  _Just in case._

 

Tony faced the boy when he stopped abruptly to fixed his opened pants and shirt, he looked up at him with shame and tears and Tony turned around to give him privacy. They walked side by side to where his things were, the few people that were awake stared at them for a moment before returning to whatever they were doing. Tony stopped to look around them, paranoia and insanity filled his mind, he turned his head at any sound that echoed ans his heart was beating fast against his chest.

 

"You're ok, kid?" He asked while placing a hand on the other's shoulder.

 

The boy nodded, "Thank you, mister."

 

Tony nodded once and gave him a last glance before starting to gather his few belongings. He could feel the boy's glance and he could hear his still accelerated breath, the crickets and wind whistling filled the air when he placed his backpack on his shoulders. 

 

"What are you doing?" 

 

The man raised his head and saw the other pointing at the things on his hands, "Leaving. After what I did, I don't think I have a safe chance of waking up alive," He patted the boy's shoulder again, "Take care, kid."

 

"Can I come with you?" The boy asked and followed as he started walking quietly.

 

Tony shook his head, "Sorry, kid."

 

"I can be helpful," He gripped the man's sleeve, "I swear!"

 

"Listen, I—"

 

"I know where they hide the keys to the shed where there is the food and provisions," The boy looked at him with big, brown eyes.

 

And—Tony's heart broke at the mere thought of realizing what could happen to that defenseless boy if he stopped being around, because,  ** _no one_** stood up for him and no one will never do. He thought about the possibilities and what a life the young boy could have in that filthy camp and he knew that it  ~~would~~ could be short.

 

"I can get all the stuff that we'll need out there," The kid whispered, "Like canned food, batteries, flashlights, matches, water,  _guns_ and—"

 

Tony raised his hand to prevent him from talking more. He looked away, contemplating and thinking twice, but when he looked at the kid again his chest warmth up and he felt an enigmatic calmness filled his body when he found the brown orbs begging for help. He nodded, "Is not dangerous?" 

 

"I can get them."

 

"Do you have stuff of your own?"

 

"Not much. Just a backpack with a few clothes," The boy shrugged.

 

Tony nodded again, "Go get your stuff and then go to the shed. If you see that is not safe —Forget it," He pointed a finger at him "I'll wait for you in the entry."

 

" _Thank you, mister_ ," The young boy run to the other direction.

 

Tony  decided to help the kid, and he  _still_ didn't know his name.

 

-

 

The road was cold and melancholic, with the cool wind, grey sky and dead birds. His feet hurt from walking for so long and his hands were numb from the frozen weather; the light - _not the sun-_ just a plain light from the sky was signaling that,  _maybe_ it was past five in the morning, but, Tony couldn't be sure. They were walking close and slowy, they haven't spoke a single word since they left the camp with enough provisions that will last for at least a week. He just helped the kid with the big duffle bag that they sneaked out of that rotten place. Tony kept turning his head to look at him every 3 minutes, because,  ** _shit_** ; they kid looked like he was about to faintwhile looking extremely pale and lips jaw shaking constantly.

 

"Boy," Tony let out silently. When he didn't get a response he snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face, "Hey, you're still here?" 

 

The boy nodded rapidly and looked up at him.

 

" _Fuck,_ " He shook his head and grimaced while starting to take of his jacket rapidly, "Here, kid—"

 

" _No, mister,_ " The other widened his eyes, "What are you doing?"

 

"I don't wanna witness a death caused by hypothermia — _So,_ please take it until we find a car or a house to rest." Tony dropped his backpack and hand the boy his jacket, when he stepped away and was about to say something, Tony shook his head and gave him a stern glance, "Take it." 

 

It wasn't  _that_ bad, the cold; that is. He didn't knew it was his body numbing stupidly, his body acclimating with the cold or the content warmth that he felt on his chest when he saw the boy sighing with the jacket over his shoulders and almost returning to a normal color. The boy smiled at him, dry lips stretching painfully. Tony smiled back.

 

It's been a while since he smiled and it's been a while since he did something for someone —Since he  _wanted_  itto. 

 

Tony stopped being used to have someone to walk with and to have company, he was only used to the desolation and remoteness since he lost he lost his wife a few months before everyone started and since he stopped  _feeling._ But, when he was walking there, in the white road and he kept hearing the soft steps of the boy, his sniffs, coughs, shifting and,  _just_ him breathing slowly —All of that relaxed him and make him feel undisturbed. It was pleasant to walk with someone that wasn't complaining, screaming or trying to harm him.

 

They walked for  _hours,_ sometimes stopping for a few minutes when it got too hard to breathe properly. It was no longer just cold, but it was starting to snow, the light was disappearing, the wind was increasing and the scarfs around their faces weren't protecting them like before. When Tony was starting to think that they will have to step aside from the road and go into the dark woods to set the tent and hope for the best; the kid pointed a finger into a direction, gripping Tony's arm and shaking it and —Tony  _actually_ gave a happy short laugh in triumph and celebration. 

 

The house that they unexpectedly found was deteriorated and big, the wood was starting to fall off but it wasn't as cold  _as_ being outside and it had leaves, dust, snow and worned out furniture. The man told the boy to stay outside so he could check if inside was safe, his heart beat fast against his chest when he held the gun infront of him and walked slowly into the house, the grinding of the wood floor and and decrepit walls made him turn fast in warning until he found every room empty and quiet. Everything seemed safe and the boy came in running with snow sticking to his clothes and throwing his backpack on the ground before laying down in the floor with a groan.

 

And, he once  _again_ was thankful that he accepted the kid to come along when they pulled out of the duffle bag cans of beans, water bottle and candles to lighten the dark livingroom, until only the shadows of their faces could be seen. Tony told him that he could stay in another room for — ** _Privacy_**. But, the boy shook his head with wide, scared eyes and sat closer next to Tony.

 

"What's your name?" Tony suddenly asked with a mouthful of red beans  —they tasted like  _glory—_ "I gotta stop calling you other than kid, don't you think?"

 

The boy nodded and swallowed hastily, "I'm Peter, mister."

 

" _And —_ You gotta stop calling me mister," The man pointed the spoon at him, "It's Tony."

 

"From Anthony?" Peter beamed happily, "I used to have a dog called Anthony."

 

Tony chuckled lightly, "In that case; it'll definitely be  _just_ Tony, kid." 

 

"You said you'll stop calling me kid," The boy said, "Because —I'm not _a kid._ "

 

"How old are you then?" 

 

" _Fourteen!_ " Peter exclaimed,

 

"You're still a kid,  _Peter,_ " The brown eyed man shrugged.

 

"I will almost be fifteen," Peter said, "In a month, mister." 

 

"You know when you're gonna be fifteen?" Tony frowned and — _Why was this kid -Peter- without anyone to take care of him?—_ , "You know in what month are we? Or you're just assuming?"

 

"Actually, you won't believe it —But," The younger boy licked his fingers, leaving the can and grabbing his backpack, "I have my own calendar in a notebook that I found." 

 

Tony watched him fetching an old looking notebook and a pen from his backpack. The boy smiled and showed him some pages quickly, he narrowed his eyes, "And this is correct?"

 

" _Yes,_ totally correct, mister," Peter nodded and pointed at something in a page, "We're in October and my birthday is in fifteen days," He looked at him, "I've been writing down the days and months since  _everything_  started."

 

"Have you now?" The older man raised his eyebrows and grabbed the notebook, noticing the small drawings and small writings, he nodded, "This is excellent. You know that, right?" Tony leaned over an patted his shoulder once, " _This_ is really good, kid —I had no idea in what time of the year we were."

 

The boy looked down and Tony couldn't help but notice the warm red blush that filled the other's cheeks. He coughed and gave him the notebook back. The feathery sound of the wind whistling through the cracks of the wall and broken window were calming enough to make his eyes heavy and body cold, but they placed the few blankets they had and jackets over themselves and — _It's been a while,_ since Tony felt like sleeping for a whole night, easy and reposeful with Peter laying less than a meter away from him, facing him and breathing gingerly through his nose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He now realized and found out how fucked up he was. Just now, when he started to gain desire and lust for the boy that he once had this fatherly care and protection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of the ones that supported the first part :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one now.
> 
> Remember, mistakes are al mine and English isn't my first language.

 

 

 

> And I saw an angel come down from heaven, having the key of the bottomless pit and a great chain in his hand. 
> 
>                      —Revelation 20:1-15
> 
> * * *
> 
> * * *
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  

He found out recently that the boy smiled a lot — _A lot._ It didn't matter the harsh circumstances or in critical situations. Maybe it was the fact that the bruises on his face and arms were already fading away or that he had someone to talk to.

 

Because,  ** _Christ_** , the kid talked a lot too. He talked while walking the long distances in the road, while they stopped to eat, while they rested and before they were about to sleep; and, most of the time Tony didn't reciprocated words, he just listened to whatever Peter had to say or what he dreamed about last night. At first he was annoyed and tired and he would shut up the kid abruptly, but he regretted right after he saw the scare expression and small nod. 

 

He blamed on his lack of human contact for the last year, but he would frown and hesitantly place a hand on the boy's shoulder before telling him to keep going and —  _'I'm sorry, kid. The cold is just busting my balls'—_

 

It's been four weeks —According to Peter's calendar— since he left  _that_ place with the kid beside him and it has been five days since the last storm of snow so the streets were clear. Tony decided to move on from the house the were staying when they heard in the middle of the night yells and cars passing close by.  _And,_ it has been eight days since they've been walking in the white road. Sometimes, if they found a car, they would stayed inside to warm up, sleep and eat.

 

When he rested in the back seat, he ignored and fake his sleep when Peter at some point, early in the morning went to sit beside him, lean his head on his shoulder and hugged his chest slightly. Tony blamed it on the  _unbearable_  cold that got the kid loosing his mind in wanting to hug him tiredly.

 

They were lucky enough to walk into a small town and find supplies in various houses, but the choose to stay in what used to be a restaurant. The calmness and easiness that came when Tony heard nothing but the wind and rain from outside the thick walls were enough to make him close his eyes in the middle of the day and lean back to rest. He distracted himself with cleaning his gun and aiming at an imaginary target. Peter kept asking him to teach him how to use and Tony refused until he saw the boy walking from side to side and — _Almost_ banging his head in the wall in the lack of things to do and boredom.

 

The first nights they slept far apart, the sighs and snores from both were unnoticeable, but the cold felt as if it was burning and then freezing Tony's blood and veins, not even the blankets and jacket that he put on top of him were enough to settle him down, not even the scarfs, gloves and beanies were enough to make him stop shaking and quavering. He knew too that the red blanket that they found in the house the stayed and the thick jacket that Peter had ontop of his body and around himself could  _ever_ be enough to make the cold go away. 

 

Tony was growing tired of putting his paraffin lamp in between the two of them to try and make their small space warmer with dimmed light and warmth that the flame emitted in the dark room. 

 

When one of the coldest night since they've on the road and in the open —Wich it hasn't being  _that_ long, but it has felt like an eternity to them— and the wind was crashing harshly against the wood and snow was making its way into the small holes in the roof and walls; Tony felt already like giving up when he couldn't conceive sleep and calmness with the temperature dropping at every damn second, the extreme temperature that made his torso shake and breathe come out foggy. His throat and the back of his nose felt like they were on fire whenever he inhale the cold air.

 

He didn't have an exact hour, so he conformed with the light in the sky when he wanted to know approximately what hour it could probably be. Sometimes it hail late at night, and  _that_ night it did. It seemed to Tony like it was just another proof of —God?  _Fuck no._ Another proof of  _somebody_ that it was really fucking cold and that they were slowly dying. The sound of the frozen water balls falling from above and hitting the roof made Tony scared of the possibility of the weak wood falling down on their head; but, the rough sound and his loud thoughts were interrupted by shifting next to him and a cracked whisper.

 

" _Mister._ "

 

The man hummed and opened his eyes, but he didn't turn his head.

 

"Tony." 

 

"I'm listening."

 

"It's too cold," Peter whimpered.

 

"I know, kid," Tony nodded in the dark and turned his to see the boy's figure. His heart ached and his hands twitched in need of touching when he saw Peter curled up in a ball until he almost became one with the blanket, trembling and hissing. 

 

"Can you hold me?" The boy whispered again. He lifted a debilitated hand and touched softly Tony's arm, gripping tightly his jacket, "Just for a bit, I swear," He shook the hand on his sleeve and repeated, "It's  _too_ cold."

 

 _No, Tony. **No**_.  _Say no, goddamnit. Do not do this right now._

 

The man was aware of their vulnerability and susceptibility and  _what_ it could cause, but the pain on his bones were too present and a warm body next to his seemed like the greatest idea of the year. He coughed and clenched his eyes when he mumbled a broken ' _ok_ ' and opened his arms hardly noticeable and lifted the blankets ontop of him as a welcoming past. He heard shifting, deep sighs and then a body was placed next to him heavily. Tony sigh in relief.

 

It felt nice — _Actually,_ it felt pleasantly good. The constant weight on his right arm in where Peter was resting was nice. He getting warm when the boy plastered himself on Tony's side and hesitantly placed his arm on his front, gripping the fabric of his jacket in small fingers. Tony draw in air when Peter got closer, hugged him tighter and rested his head on his chest. The small sigh of content made Tony bring an arm slowly around the boy, draping the blanket over him too and rubbing his back cautiously, with trembling fingers and numb hand. 

 

The messy curls tickled his chin and neck, but the immense alleviation that run over his body when the cold subsided a little — _That_ was enough to ignore it and close his eyes, slumber finally becoming present. Just  _calmness_  and tranquility. Peter's legs were tight against his own leg, the perfect pressure to make him stay still. Tony enjoyed his soft breathing too and the hand gripping his jacket, the hissing and unsteady jaw was going away until it was only slow air coming out of his nose. 

 

"Thank you, Tony." Peter breathed out brokenly, " _Hold me_."

 

_Tony, don't._

 

But — it was too late when his mind didn't process his intentions twice. He got closer and placed quickly a hand over Peter's resting on his chest. Tony squeezed it fondly, covering his whole hand with his own and leaving his thumb to move up and down on the cold flesh. 

 

The scary urge to bent his head and kiss the top of the boy's head was present on his mind. That fatherly sense that came up to him whenever he saw Peter struggling or suffering, the single thought of whispering tender words against his ear, promise him wellness and protection. He repressed them and put them in the back of his mind when Peter shifted and held his hand tightly until he drifted off to sleep.

 

Tony laid awake for a few minutes, ignoring the fatigue behind his eyes, but he couldn't just go to sleep when the boy, sweet Peter with the red cheeks was halfway ontop of him, breathing softly and clenching his hand unconsciously. The warmth on the pit of his stomach was the same one he felt when he first saw his wife and the need of protection  _is_  the same one that he felt when he saw his wife struggling with the endless winter along with him. The same warmth of care that spread on his chest when he sees Peter smiling and relaying on him and trusting him. He chose to ignore the fear of losing Peter in the same way that he lost his wife.

 

The man fell asleep with the gratified weight of the boy and soft sighs.

 

-

 

 They moved when the food was running out, until they only had two cans of peaches and one bottle of water. Tony faked a stomach ache, solely to let the kid have both cans. The pale skin, red cheek, purple lips and weak eyes made him ignore his hunger and selfishness. There wasn't snow falling, it was just the mere cold and slight breeze, but it wasn't as bad a storm, so they - _Tony-_ decided to start walking in the road again to find supplies and a temporary place to stay. His eyes were heavy and his head was pounding from the lack of food and sleep, his legs felt like buckling and his shoulders hurt from carrying the backpack for so long. Peter kept looking at him each time that Tony stumbled or lose balance as they walk.

 

"Can we take a break?" Peter's voice came muffled from the scarf on his face.

 

He shook his head, "Let's not lose time. We can take a break when we get out of  _this_  goddamn town." 

 

 "But—" The boy widened his eyes and raised an arm, " _Just—_ look at you, Tony. You look like you could take one."

 

"I'm fine, kid." 

 

"Mister—"

 

Tony rolled his eyes, "What did we said about the ' _mister'_ thing?" 

 

" _Tony —_ Can we please take a break?" Peter held his arm and stopped walking, "I'm just worried about you—"

 

"The only one who was to worry about me, is  _me._ So stop your pretty little head from overthinking and just keep walking, kid," Tony raised his voice slightly and pointed in front of them.

 

"But—"

 

" _Now._ "

 

The boy looked down with a frown and started walking without waiting for him. Tony was about to stretch an arm to touch the other's shoulder, but the pain in his head made him groan in annoyance at himself and step harder in the frozen ground as he followed the footprints that Peter was leaving in the snow. 

 

He will apologize later.

 

-

 

Tony blamed impatience, restlessness and agitation on the weather, circumstances and lack of food. His ears hurt from the cold air like his hands were aching inside his gloves. It seemed like their world was surrending by each day that passed and each brumal day that passed. Everything seemed more difficult with someone to take care of, even if he didn't have a real obligation to look out for Peter, he felt the  _need_ to have him close and protect him from bad outside.

 

Things have been getting worse and only for them —Tony guessed. But, for  _everyone,_ for everyone that was outside like them, in the danger and in the storm. Resources, power, gas, food and water was running out and people were getting desperate and atrocious, like when the doomsday first started. They couldn't stay in a abandoned house for more than a week because in the middle of the night —just when the cold was at its full apogee and the wind seemed to break through the door— there was the unmistakable sound of loud car engines roaring, wheels against frozen pavement and yells of protest and threats of dead at the defenseless out there. 

 

" _Tony_."

 

The man remembers waking up with a broken gasp and hand already searching for his gun as he looked beside him and saw Peter holding the knife that he gave him close to his chest, in fear and uncertainty, wet eyes searching in the dark as they heard the noises getting closer and clearer. The pounding of his heart was strong and Tony that he could hear the other's heartbeat, sounding loud and rapid, just like his breath was.

 

" _Turn off the lamp!"_

 

Tony whispered harshly and watched the boy turning off the light with shaky hands and numb fingers. He loaded his gun and waited for the worst.

 

He remembers too accepting the way that Peter hugged him close, just when the sound of car doors slamming close and laughs echoing in the streets. Tony's hand shook when he held Peter's head against his shoulder and shushed him quietly when he started whispering in the dark, asking if they were gonna die or if they were safe. All that Tony could do was to hold him tighter against his side and listen with confusion and fear the other unknown people destroying and searching houses.

 

"They're gonna find us, Tony," Peter cried, "We're gonna be—" 

 

"Hey, hey —Look at me, kid—" Tony whispered, "Nothing is gonna happen to us." 

 

"What if they take me or they take you, I'm not—" The boy gasped and cut himself off when there were gunshots and banging coming from outside. 

 

"Nothing is gonna happen to us — _To you._ I'm here."

 

Tony remembers the horror and the frightening thought of not knowing what could happen and he was making a mistake when Peter was shaking and he promised something that Tony didn't know if he was able to fulfill it or if it was going to last —But, his heart broke at the thought of  _anything_ happening to the kid and what he would do. 

 

He just held his gun in a tight grip, aiming for the door with Peter by his side, holding an useless knife that made them both feel more secure and breathing harshly as the noises outside went down slowly, the cars and yells disappeared into the night until there was only the wind blowing again. Tony wanted to thank someone above, but he sighed instead and rested his head against Peter's.

 

_-_

 

They found a small house close to the woods, where the obscure light from the sky could barely hit the wood of the roof. It was abandoned and it smelled like dust, the dampness in the walls was because of a leak in a wall. Peter covered it with a piece of paperboard that he found laying in the ground. They haven't spoke much, not even when the found a pharmacy with a few supplies, Peter would've have shake his arm enthusiastically and smile —But, he just followed Tony and helped him to get the cans and medicine into his duffle bag.

 

Tony tried to find the brown eyes, he tried to stare at them and then smile —Just for the mere sake of wanting to tell the boy that everything was ok. But, everytime Peter would look away, with tainted cheeks and tight lips.

 

After his efforts, Tony gave up when he tried to place and arm around his shoulders and Peter shrugged it off softly, walking ahead of him. 

 

The dimmed light of the lamp illuminated the room when Tony started to put the blankets on the ground for himself when he saw that there was only one small couch. They had an unspoken agreement of staying in the same room, for safety and avoid vulnerability. He grabbed Peter's backpack and started taking out his stuff until he found the boy's blanket, he was about to place it in the couch, but Peter stopped him by holding it and standing in front of him.

 

"I can do it," The younger boy mumbled and took the fabric in his hands. 

 

"Kid—" Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched him extending the blanket on the couch roughly, "Quit that, come on." 

 

Peter hummed and shrugged.

 

"Hey, kid," Tony tried to grab his shoulder but Peter sat down on the couch to avoid it, " _Hey._ I'm sorry, ok?" 

 

The boy crossed his arms and looked up at him through, his brown hair was falling on his forehead, almost reaching his eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about." 

 

"You damn know well what I'm talking about," The older man sighed again before sitting down beside him, he looked at his boots and shrugged, "I'm sorry for snapping at you in the morning. I didn't mean to, ok?" 

 

Peter nodded shortly.

 

"Peter—"

 

" _It's fine,_ " The boy raised his voice a little and looked at him, "It's cool, Tony."

 

Tony nodded. They sat in silence for a minute, the only sound was Peter's feet fidgeting in the floor until Tony raised his arm and took the beanie off of Peter's head, "Hey!" He smiled and stood up to held it high above his head and watched the boy jumped and tried to take it away from him, his body collided with Tony's every time he jumped up and his hand was clenching his shoulder as he laughed and tried to push Tony away.

 

"Give it to me," The boy grinned, "I'm cold!"

 

"Alright, alright, settle down, kid," Tony sighed tiredly and threw the beanie at his face, he smiled slightly and ruffled his hair, "We're good?"

 

Peter stared at him for a few seconds and then gave a step to hold tightly the man's middle, hugging him and hiding his face on his chest. Tony tensed up and then relaxed before patting softly the boys back.

 

"Can I sleep on the ground with you?" Peter blushed and then shook his head rapidly, "No —wait— like, next to you? This sofa is uncomfortable anyways and smells like rats."

 

Tony chuckled, patting his shoulder and pulling away, "Sure thing, kid."

 

He helped Peter place blankets on the floor as he listened to Peter talking about a T.V show that he used to watch. They laid next to eachother, arms barely touching as the wind blew outside, the lamp was turn off and Tony fell asleep when the boy turned his body away.

 

 -

 

_"Tony, what are we gonna do?"_

 

_"I'm thinking, there is no way we can get through this. The people is already breaking the rows."_

 

_"Let's do the same then."_

 

_"Pepper, dear; please, be patient. Is one of the main things that we need now: patience," Tony held her hand, "We're gonna get through this, alright?"_

 

_She nodded and smiled softly when Tony squeezed her hand, "I'm just scared."_

 

_"I know," He nodded slowly and looked back at the cars in front of him, "Me too."_

 

_"We're gonna be fine, right?"_

 

_"We're all going to be fine, love," Tony raised his hand and caressed the small bump on her stomach, "We're going to be."_

 

_"Tony, watch out!"_

 

He woke up with a small jump and breathing in harshly, his legs were numb and he looked down to find his blanket by his feet. He wrapped it around himself again with a shaking jaw and looked quickly beside himself when he heard again the noise that woke him up again and his heart beat fast in fear when it came from the boy. The soft whimpering and sighing that Peter was giving reminded him of when they were back at the camp and Tony was about to place his hand in where his gun was; but then his eyes got accustomed to the dark and its surroundings and relief filled his chest when he saw no one but the boy fidgeting.

 

 _And,_ Tony started to think that the boy was having nightmares like he normally did and he was about to move an arm and pinch him to wake him up, but —Then he saw it. He gulped and stayed still, his breath hitched and his body turned cold and then  _warm._ He saw Peter resting on his back and his face was turned away, bitting the jacket that he was using as a pillow; and Tony wanted to, he fucking  _wanted_ to think again that the boy was having a cruel nightmare, but he lowered his gaze and saw Peter's hand moving under the thin blanket, he saw him moving quickly and stupidly.

 

The quiet sighs and moans that sounded loudly in the room made the man shudder slowly and he  _could not_ look away from the boy's movements. A part of his body was throbbing in wich where he didn't want it to and he was feeling the  _arousal_ that was starting to become unfamiliar. He watched the back of his head, the brown curls were messy and tangled; Tony was about to force himself to turn around, but he stood still when the boy moved, the shifting echoed in the four walls and Tony's blood run cold when he thought that he had been caught — _False alarm._ He closed his eyes.

 

He now realized and found out how fucked up he was. Just now, when he started to gain desire and lust for the boy that he once had this fatherly care and protection, the sense of admiration for him. Tony wanted to punch himself for looking in a perverted gaze at boy that he was starting to see as his own child, but now, it was vanished when Peter presented himself as an erotic act and arousing sight.

 

And, now he knew that he was going to hell when he brought a hand down himself slowly when he watched Peter's blanket pulled down a bit until he could see the boy's fair skin, he saw his hand disappearing under the blue jeans and black underwear. He touched himself too with remoteness and disgust, clenching his jaw and shuddering at the soft sounds that the boy was making. 

 

Tony decided to think later of the consequences when Peter looked at him with small eyes and whispered his name in the dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you later!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never in a million years he thought that he would be surviving the end of the world with the company of a teenager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the chapter. 
> 
> I wanted to say that I'm not religious, but I think that the Bible verses in the beginning send this kind of vibe like it's the end of times and morals are not longer conserved, but are only followed by a few people, and the ones that do, leans towards God idk? And that Tony is loosing his mind a bit and he is forgetting about his old life and ethics. 
> 
> My ramble is over, y'all.
> 
> Mistakes are mine, sorry if they're too bad, please do let me know.
> 
> Warnings: slight underage sexual content and rape attempt. 
> 
> If it harms you in any way, please do not read.

 

 

 

>  What then? Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace? By no means!
> 
>                           —Romans 6:15
> 
>  
> 
> * * *
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

 

That night went unmentioned the day after; the night that Tony felt like sickest pervert walking on earth at the guilty desire that he unexpectedly found for the kid. He forced himself to sleep with a grimace on his face, still listening to the little sounds that Peter was letting out, he thought with horror with a skipping heart that Peter had see him seeing  _him._ Tony was wrong and he was so thankful because he wasn't sure if could handle the consequences the morning after, it was too dark and they were tired, so when Tony opened his eyes slightly he found himself in the mere mecca of this cruel and  _unfair_ and just wrong situation, because — Peter was just a kid! — but, he was a grown up man that hasn't had contact with humans since almost everything started and his body reacted erotically at something minimal.

 

Tony knew that the remorse shouldn't totally fall on his shoulder because nor did he felt completely guilty, not when the kid whispered  _his_ name once or twice and shifted under the blankets with being just a fucking meter away. It was reckless and careless. He shakily turned his head around and forced himself to not do what Peter was doing. 

 

Apparently Peter didn't notice that Tony watched him for a moment in the night, shuddering and breathing difficulty; Tony wasn't surprised that the kid didn't saw him looking, judging by the frown on his forehead and his rapid hand movements that seemed  _too_ loud in the small room. 

 

 _And —_ Tony couldn't blame him either, at the end, he  _is_ a teenager, a hormonal teenager that happened to live in a chaotic, ending world that the last and most  _normal_ thing that Peter could do was to masturbate in the middle of the night. 

 

Yes, Tony did accept that,  _hell_ , he sometimes did it too when he couldn't bring himself to sleep, it was one of the only things left in his life that could be ordinary and common to do. 

 

But, what disconcerted his mind and morals was the  _fact_ that Peter was whispering his name quietly, like if it was something forbidden —because, it really was— that he could feel the doe brown eyes that Tony knew too well now, looking at him. He chose to ignore painfully when Peter came with a gasp, Tony knew that Peter got to an end when the noises subsided, the whispers were over and the rustling of his jacket disappeared.

 

He just wondered for a few pleasant seconds what the boy did to wipe of the mess on his hand; did he maybe licked it— and,  _God, Tony, please don't think about it._

 

He remembers giving a sigh of relief when Peter started to snore minutes later. 

 

Tony hated himself at the moment when he brought a hand down and felt his arousal that Peter caused, _no_ , he didn't wank off, for mere respect towards the boy and just to keep considering himself as a presentable and a man with morals and ethics. The urge was there, the want and hunger too. The hunger for something like Peter being pliant and responsive to anything Tony asked, because he knew that if he snapped his fingers and ordered something, the kid would be at his disposition —But, he chose to ignore that too.

 

Somehow, he slept content, with that sick feeling in his stomach at witnessing something so — so,  _provocative?_ —Because, what Peter did that night turn on something inside him that he didn't know he could feel towards the kid, he called himself a depraved man when he felt that fucking desire and craving for a fourteen year old boy that,  _thank God,_ was about to be fifteen; not that it made any serious difference.

 

But, could someone really blame Tony? For reacting and responding at something that he hasn't seen in so long. The last time that he had any kind of intimate contact was this girl at a camp, just after his wife died —He did it for pure anger and to try and avoid the post trauma of the events. He fucked like mad man until the girl sobbed, she was dirty and smelled funny, but wasn't everyone like that? Tony remembers crying for the first time in a long time at the loss of of Pepper and their unborn child.

 

So, when this boy with the slim body, wide smile, thin lips and fair skin presented himself in that situation, Tony knew that he wouldn't look at Peter in the same way that he used to look at him.

 

He will not longer see him as the uncorrupted child, as the sweet boy that held Tony's hand when they walk past a dead body, as the boy that hugged his own blanket when his asleep or as the kid that tries to tell an _awful_  joke when Tony isn't in a great mood; he can't do that anymore, the false image that he had of Peter as something like his own son faded away quickly, when he watched the boy play in the snow and throw snowballs at him playfully and the sad thought that slipped of his son that never was born could turn out to be as someone as fine and good as Peter.

 

He stil doesn't know why Peter was whispering his name when he touched himself, but Tony noticed since the morning after more carefully how the kid would look at him with hope and care in his eyes, how he would get nervous and blush when Tony stared for too long or how he would brush his fingers in Tony's hand when they walked too close.

 

Tony started to noticed and he couldn't help but welcome the warm feeling on his chest and he knew that since  _that_  night he wasn't going to be able to look at or act around Peter in the same way.

 

-

 

"Today is my birthday, Tony."

 

Tony lifted his head as he breathed in harshly when the voice of the boy woke him up from his inconstant tries of sleeping while sitting up in front of the small fire that they made inside of room; he insisted the other that it was _incredibly_ dangerous to lit a fire inside a close small of made of wood, but their purple hands and dry lips made them ignore that. His body was aching and he was tired from all the walking and searching, they came across some places that were old and devastated, but luckily they found some food even though they were measuring the water that they had to not run out of it so soon.

 

He regained composure and coughed slightly, "What was that?"

 

"You need to take your three o'clock nap, old man?" Peter giggled and threw the lid of can towards him.

 

"Watch it, boy ' _I'm afraid of the dark,_ " The man pointed a finger at him and then laughed when the other threw a wood stick towards him.

 

"That was only once."

 

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, kid," Tony rolled his eyes playfully and then nodded his head once and waved his hand.

 

The younger boy grinned, "Today is my birthday. It's October 24." 

 

Tony raised his eyebrows, "Christ —already?"

 

"I'm fifteen now." 

 

Tony smiled fondly when Peter smiled widely, the fire illuminated the side of his face warmly as he coughed and stood up, "Come here, kid," He raised a hand and stiffly motioned for him to come over.

 

Peter stood up quickly, shaking the dust of his pants and giving a small step to be in front of the man. Before Tony could get closer, Peter wrapped his arms around him tightly, he smiled and welcomed it —He always find endearing the way Peter always seemed desperate for comfort and a constant touch or caress. Tony has gotten used to it now, he used to freak out at first, but his heart and mind gave in because,  _fuck,_ the kid had no one, he lost his aunt and the only protection or role model that he had was Tony and he he tried to be a good on, even if he sometimes fucked up, but he knew that Peter couldn't get mad for longer than a few hours.

 

"I don't particularly have anything with me to give you as a present—" Tony let out after a chuckle, " _But,_ if you think of something that I can do. Just tell me, kid. Nobody deserves a birthday without being celebrated." 

 

"It's fine," Peter shrugged, then poked Tony's stomach with a finger and grinned, "Maybe we can wake up not that early tomorrow?" 

 

"You got it." 

 

-

 

The next day, they went out to explore, because surprisingly it wasn't that cold and Peter had the energy of a monster, doing squats and push ups, running in circles in the small space until Tony frustrated, raised a hand and pulled him by the cap of his jacket to sit down in the couch next to him, Peter laughed at the annoyed expression on his face. Tony blame it on letting him sleep late and eat an extra bar of chocolate, but he didn't have the heart to wake him up when he saw him cuddled on side and he certainly didn't have the heart to say no when the boy looked hopefully at the second chocolate bar in Tony's backpack. He considered it as a birthday present.

 

They had been walking in the streets covered in snow for a few hours now, the sky was brighter that day and Tony appreciate it. Peter was walking ahead on him, usually Tony would be a little tensed if they weren't walking together, but he got tired of scowling Peter of walking quicker than him and he shook his head when the boy whispered ' _shut up, old man_.' —It was days like this one, that his patience could run low, but he forget about it, because that meant that Peter was  _still_ being just a kid with an immature mind and that was  _ok_. Because Tony needed that certain humanity and innocence in his life to keep him sane.

 

He was looking around himself at some point and when he looked ahead again, he didn't saw the grey of Peter's jacket and his worned out beani, he only saw white and an empty road. Tony breathed in, because this was the second time that he lost the boy out of his sight that day and he grew annoyed because Peter wasn't listening to his directions and orders. 

 

" _Fuck_ ," He muttered to himself and kept walking, he waited for a few moments to let Peter appear again like he did the first time and rolled his eyes when Tony scolded him once again, but when he wasn't showing up, Tony readjusted the backpack on his back and started walking faster, he raised his voice, "Kid!" The wind only answered coldly and he huffed, "Kid, come on, this isn't funny."

 

Tony gave a breathy sigh when no sound came and he started imagining the worst, he jogged, turning his head everywhere, aching to see a glimpse of brown hair, "Peter!" 

 

"Kid, where the hell are you?!" He exclaimed slightly.

 

"God, Tony. What is it now?"

 

And, he gave a sigh of relief when he turned around and saw Peter's back facing him, he was infront of a three with his hand in front of himself, "Why weren't you answering, kid? —I almost had a fucking heart attack."

 

"I am peeing."

 

" _Clearly_ ," Tony said sarcastically and rubbed his face, "You can't just disappear on me like that, Peter."

 

"I have to tell you when I have to pee or take a shit?" Peter turned his head slightly.

 

" _Yes._ Yes, you have to, Peter," He raised his hand, "Listen, just —finish your business and let's get going before night hits."

 

"Ok, dad," The boy said annoyed and Tony walked away until he stopped hearing the sound of Peter peeing in the snow. 

 

Never in a million years he thought that he would be surviving the end of the world with the company of a teenager who was starting to talk back and swear infront of him without second thoughts.

 

-

 

Tony smiled when the kid jumped happily and shook him when they came across a Walmart, it looked old and devastated, cars with broken windows were parked outside and his heart beat in fear at the unknown that could be inside the place. He ordered Peter with a firm voice to not enter until he whistle and he walked with quiet steps down the entry, holding his gun infront of him, every sound that the wind made through the wall could set him off, but he grew relieved when it was all clear and he actually could see some useful things in the floor and stands. 

 

He whistled and Peter came running quickly, looking around surprised with wide eyes, Tony forced himself to not run a hand down his face when he saw the red nose and flushed cheeks, he found himself watching more constantly the thin lips and how Peter wetened them when he was nervous or tired; Tony knew that Peter was noticing his longer stares and secret admiration because the kid sometimes gave him a quick look and then smile slightly. He interrupted his thoughts when he felt the kid following him and if he wanted to keep himself from going insane, he turned around and faced him.

 

"Look, we have to part ways so we don't lose time, ok?" Tony asked and stretched his hand that was holding the gun, "Here, you know how to use this and  _only_ use it in case of an emergency," He motioned to the other part of the supermarket, "You take that side and I take this one." 

 

Peter nodded quickly, gripping the gun in his hands, "Yes." 

 

" _Hey,_ " Tony pulled him back by his shoulder when he started to turn around, "Be careful, kid. I'm trusting you with this." 

 

"Yes," He repeated and grinned excitedly, "You can trust me." 

 

The older man nodded his head, "Go — _Don't_ run— Jesus. Yell if you see anything."

 

"Ok!" 

 

Tony shook his head fondly as Peter hurried away until he disappeared into the hallways. He started to collect what was good, looking at the date of the cans and picking up the few medical supplies that he found, he found once package of toilet paper and he leaned his forehead against the cold metal of the stand and mumbled a thank you to anyone as he held the paper to his chest. 

 

When he walked the through the corridor of toys, he couldn't avoid the ache and preoccupation on his chest as he thought back, he tried to ignored as he walked, avoiding to look at the toys and he felt his stomach dropping once he stood in another corridor, Tony was surrounded by emty shelfs and opened tuna cans in the ground and didn't know how he became breathless and tired, but he felt the familiar physical exhaustion of doing _nothing_  but letting himself think, his vision bacame blurred and he gasped for air when he felt cold inside his veins started to travel painfully, his hands rested on his knees as his chest clenched, making it difficult for him to breath. 

 

Tony was thinking of Pepper and  _his_ child and of the bastards that killed them, he couldn't breath and he felt like dying when he felt on his knees and groan in pain, he saw dark and he blinked fast, trying to see clear but a pain in his head started to accentuate by each passing second.

 

He breathed in shakily and gripped the sides of his head. Tony hasn't had a panic attack since he has Peter as company and he enjoyed the nights without so many nightmares and moving around and he enjoyed the comfort too of when he really did wake up gasping and punching, Peter was there beside him holding him down weakly and whispering softly. He wanted to scream and he was  _about_ to scream, but then he winced and clenched his eyes when a loud noise echoed in the place and his brain took a but to process what it was.

 

Tony widened his eyes and breathed out, he looked up, starting to see again when he realized that the loud sound was a gunshut, a gunshut from  _his_ gun. He stood up rapidly with weak knees and then took hold of the shelf when he became dizzy. His heart seemed like it was pounding in his ears and throat when he run and wiped his eyes to wipe away any wetness.

 

" _Peter!_ "

 

He shuddered in fear when he called and silence was the only thing on his ears, it took a few minutes for him to find him. Tony kept running by each corridor, not being able to find his voice to call again, so he just kept looking until he got to the entry, where the the light of the sky was coming through the wide, broken glass doors. He narrowed his eyes when all he saw was blurry from the bright light.

 

And, then —Tony's hands shook and he dropped the duffle bag when the nightmare presented as a reality infront of him. The familiar whimpers and sighs echoed in his ears, reminding him of his short time in the camp in wich he found Peter lost Iike a little kid and his heart ached everytime he saw him —It ached two now when he froze in his place and his breath seemed like stopping at any second. 

 

"Hey—" 

 

 _"Tony—_ " Peter gasped.

 

He gulped at the sight, his mind blocking when he saw  _that_ old, dirty and tall man with crazy eyes staring back at him, a certain derision was in his expression and he was grinning like mad man as he held Peter's neck tighter from behind him.

 

"What do we have here, huh, boy?" The man licked his lips, "Who's that?" 

 

"Tony, help—" The boy cried and tried to get away.

 

"Please, let him go," Tony raised his hands slowly, clenching with one hand the handle of his knife, "You can have everything we have, but just—"

 

"Oh, no. I  _will,_ " The old man laughed, pulling Peter's body closer, his hand holding his jaw now, "But, I will have him two." 

 

Tony's breath hitched when the other licked the boy's cheek, his heart hammered against his chest when he looked at Peter's tears and heard his pleas, "Do not fucking touch him." 

 

"Or what?" The man laughed again, the repugnant sound sounding lonely in the wide space as Peter held tightly the arm around his neck.

 

"Tony, please—" 

 

"It's been a while since I had a good fuck, you know?" The other shrugged, " _And,_ your sweet boy here seems like he's gonna be a good one. Don't give a fuck about genders anymore, man. The world is dead now anyway." 

 

"Let go of him now," Tony started lowering his arms, "Or, I will—" 

 

"Drop the knife and keep your hands up, asshole," The man tightened his grip in the boy. Tony did what he was asked and looked at the brown eyes for a moment before looking at the other again, "Good, now kick it towards me." 

 

He obeyed again, "Let go of the kid, man. You don't wanna do this."

 

" _No._ I do wanna," The man scoffed, "I will take all of your stuff, right. Now, if you turn around while I fuck him, I may give you the boy back. I ain't too fond of audiences."

 

Peter cried and tried to get away by kicking and punching the air, " _Please —_ Stop, I— Tony!" 

 

"Turn around if you want a fair deal."

 

Tony clenched his eyes and turned around, hands lowering slowly. His mind went numb at Peter's yells and cries and the sound of  _things_ unzipping filled the air. His hands shook as he put them inside the pocket of his jacket and felt the hard material of his gun. Tony saw red when the noises became louder and he forgot about every pain and weakness on his body when he turned around abruptly and pulled at the trigger when he first saw the target. Tong exhaled when he saw the two bodies laying on the ground and blood was running in it slowly, he walked towards it.

 

"Peter," His voice cracked and he didn't realized he was crying until he kicked the limp body that was ontop of the boy's. Peter was covering his ears and clenching his eyes tight, tears were streaming down his face as he shook and trembled slowly.

 

Tony gripped the back of the man's jacket and lifted him of Peter's body roughly, dumping him in the grey tiles and watching more blood smearing on the ground. He gagged and kneel besides the boy, "Peter,  _sweetheart._ Look at me, everything's fine—" He flinched when Peter moved away from his touch and screamed brokenly.

 

" _Stop!—_ " 

 

"Shh..." He whispered and forced the boy to stop moving by pulling him close and holding him against his chest. He used all of his strength to stabilize Peter shaking and punching his chest and face, "It's me, it's me. Look —Peter— It's me, Tony. Everything's ok now," He gripped softly the boy's face and made him look at him. Tony watched the wide brown eyes filled with fear and uncertainty staring at him back.

 

"Please—"

 

"It's me," Tony moved the hair out of his forehead carefully, "It's me, sweetheart. Nothing gonna hurt you now." 

 

There was blood and remainings of flesh on Peter's hair and temple. Tony's hand shook as he wiped with his thumb the red liquid off his skin, making it worse and staining more, but Peter closed his eyes and the tears were stopping slowly. Tony gave a wet sigh when he started rocking the boy back and forth on the floor, his eyes never leaved the old man's dead body facing them, the unexplained fear of the man coming to life and hurting remained as Peter cried softly and gripped with small fingers the front of his jacket.

 

It was getting dark and colder by the minute that they spent in the ground. Tony half carried the boy in his arms and he realized until now that his pants were pulled down and Tony struggled with one hand until he could fixed them again and start walking towards the exit, before grabbing all of their stuff and left the old man behind as they searched under the darkening sky a house to stay for the night.

 

When Peter's eyes focused and his body seemed to gained strength again, Tony let go of him when the boy pushed hik away softly and grabbed his backpack from Tony's hands. The expression on Peter's face was _terrifying,_ it was neutral and emotionless, contrasting the scare one that he had back in the supermarket and Tony noticed lately that Peter's lip was bleeding slightly, when he reached over to wipe the blood he fliched when the other flinched. He just walked closed beside him and promised himself that he was going to find a safe place and take care of Peter. 

 

Tony dragged Peter inside a house when he thought that they both were gonna faint, he didn't even checked if anything or anyone was inside, he trusted his luck as he made Peter sit down in a chair and gave him water, he watched the boy drank it desperately, the noise of plastic being crushed, became evident as he finished the liquid and handed the bottle to Tony before bending over and expulsing everything he drank and the food that he ate. Tony nodded and rubbed his back carefully as he emptied his stomach and hiccuped slightly, Peter looked up at him with broken eyes that made his chest pain and stomach twisted.

 

The man wiped Peter's lips with a cloth softly, then started to clean the drying blood on his forehead, he let Peter sniff and cried slightly, Tony wiped the tears again and he couldn't stop himself when he leaned down and kissed the top of his head longingly, whispering promises and soothing words.

 

He nodded and allowed Peter when he stood up, pushing him away slowly and went to lay down in the couch, his back facing Tony as he stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do, so he flopped down against the wall and rested his head against it, his heart finally was going down.

 

It was colder and he wasn't sure if Peter was going to sleep with him that night.

 

-

 

Tom laid blankets in the floor besides the couch of where Peter was sleeping, before going to sleep he draped the thickest blanket on top of the boy and rubbed his arm slightly. He fell sleep to the soft breathing and wind blowing, it wasn't as cold as other nights, but he felt it was the coldest when Peter wasn't snoring close to him.

 

What woke him up slowly in —he guessed— the middle of the night was the sound of the springs of the old couch grinding together and a deep groan. He didn't open his eyes until he felt a presence beside him, he didn't have to look aside to know that Peter laid down beside him, keeping a small distance between them. Tony would reach out and pull hik close under his own blanket, but he was afraid that he kid could be still on edge and — _How_ the fuck could he not? He was almost raped in the least place that crossed Tony's mind that could ever happen. But, he moved an arm in between them, opening his palm as a sign to tell Peter that he was up and that he was just  _there_.

 

"Tony," Peter whispered, "You're awake?"

 

"You're feeling ok?" Tony asked back. He frowned when the boy didn't respond, he could only hear his soft breathing, "Peter—"

 

"I'm sorry," Peter let out silently. 

 

The room was almost dark dark, the only lighting was Tony's flashlight that he kept turn on in case the boy had nightmares; he turned his head with a frown and then mumbled, " _What?_ "

 

"I'm sorry," He repeated with a broken whispered. 

 

"What —  _Peter —_ what on earth are you saying?" Tony raised his head to see if he was sleep talking, but his heart ached when he found Peter's small form curled up and with his wet eyes wide open, "Peter—"

 

"I couldn't defend myself," The boy gulped, "And, I'm sorry, Tony." 

 

The older man closed his eyes for a short moment and shook his head slowly, he sighed, "Peter, please don't say that—"

 

"I tried, Tony. I fucking tried. _I_ _swear—_ " He sobbed openly for the first time, "I just — He just didn't let me— He kept touching me and I didn't know what to do, I felt like I was back in the camp and I  _just_ couldn't move—" 

 

"Stop," Tony grimaced and shifted until he was laying close, beside the boy, he carefully lifted a hand and touched his shoulder, he expected a bad reaction or a punch, but Peter sniffed wetly and surrendered in his arms, letting Tony hug him close until his head was under his chin; Peter's arms felt limp when he hugged Tony loosely and he started crying with the heartbreaking sounds that reminded Tony of the place that he got out with Peter.

 

"I was so afraid, Tony..."

 

"I know, I know.  _Me too_ , sweetheart." He spoke lowly.

 

"I don't—"

 

" _Shh —_ It's gone, everything it's gone.  _You're_ safe now, we're safe," The older man whispered, sounding loud in the calm room, he squeezed Peter harder against him in involuntary fear.

 

"I know you told me to keep my head up, but I swear I didn't see that man coming, I thought it was you and I tried to stop him, but—" Peter kept mumbling stubbornly, breathing with difficulty against the man's chest as he gasped sometimes for air and sobbed slightly, "I tried, I tried to do everything you taught me with the gun, but it fell and I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry, Tony."

 

He shook his head, "Don't say that, please don't say that. This  _is not_ your fault. This is not your fault, sweetheart. Just — stop thinking that, yes? We're both safe now, he and no one is coming, ok?"

 

The boy nodded shakily after a moment of silence. 

 

"We're fine now, Peter." 

 

" _Tony._ "

 

He hummed and started rubbing his back unconsciously, feeling the thin sweater under his palm and he wondered how the fuck the kid hasn't die from the cold surrounding them; Tony pulled a blanket over both of them and open his own jacket covering his chest to let the boy in and engulf him with the thick fabric, he sighed shakily when the other's whimpers and cries until there were only sniff.

 

"Tony, I can't — _shit —_ I can't get it off," Peter mumbled frustratedly as he shifted slightly.

 

"What's wrong, kid?" Tony was about to sit up but Peter surprisingly pulled him back down strongly.

 

"No, just — can you help me?" The boy said and searched for Tony's eyes in the dark, "I can't get it off—"

 

"What can't you get—" 

 

"His fucking touch, Tony!" Peter raised his voice and the man actually flinched back slightly, a revolting nausea came to the back of his mouth, threatening to come out, he coughed and was about to say something, but Peter spoke again, "I still feel it and I can't shower and i feel  _so_ disgusting, Tony —Just— help me get it off."

 

Tony cleared his throat, welcoming the warm breath that was thrown against his chest as Peter talked, he knew that kid was ashamed when he hid his face and gripped his chest, he whispered hesitatingly, "What can I do?" 

 

He suspected that it wasn't going to end up well and that he shouldn't listen to Peter, or that he should just tell the boy to try and sleep and hope for the best, but he wasn't a heartless bastard, even if he tried —So, when Peter whispered hesitatingly, with a hint of fear on his voice, Tony shuddered and his breath got stuck.

 

" _Touch me_." 

 

The words floated in the air awkwardly, making them both close their eyes; Tony wanted to scream ' _I am touching you'_ but he wasn't a fool to not know what Peter really mean. He processed the words over and over again, ignoring the arousing sense and focusing that the boy on his arms was just a fucking  _child_ —it wasn't like tge police was going to burst through the door and chain him up, because,  _ha._ But, he still had little morals and civil consciousnesses.

 

"Tony—"

 

He looked down and his mouth dried up at the sad and desperate expression in the boy's young features. Tony wanted to clenched his eyes shut and just go back to sleep, but he found himself realizing that he  ~~couldn't~~ wouldn't say no to Peter, he was allowing the way he was going to  _sin_ and he was ignoring whatever previous rational thoughts. 

 

"Would that make you feel better?" Tony asked with a shaky voice, looking at the brown eyes and watching them close for a moment. Peter nodded slowly and held Tony's hand tightly.

 

And —if Tony could do something that  _would_ make Peter feel better or even forget for that matter. He was going to do it. Not caring about the consequences or the wrong. He has being aching for too long and he couldn't stop it now. Not when Peter started to guide his hand down the covers; Tony felt the fabric of his clothes against his knuckles as he went downwards, he clenched his eyes when he felt the rough fabric of his jeans, but the soft sigh that Peter let out was enough to move his hand on his own.

 

Tony let Peter make noises in the crook of his neck, damping the skin there as he worked his jeans open with one hand and stuck his hand inside the underwear, feeling the warmth of his hardnesses and feeling the soft tickle of the slight hair in there. 

 

He moved his hand quickly, wanting the boy to finish fast —even if a part of him wanted it to last forever so he could keep hearing to the breathy moans, whimpers and his name being whispered in the same erotic way that Peter did when he was touching himself, the same way that drove Tony crazy. He just rubbed his hand lazily fondling him and rubbing up and down, letting the boy grind against him and grip his shirt.

 

"Good boy, _good boy_. There you go, sweetheart," Tony spoke before he could stop himself but he didn't regret when Peter gasped loudly and still against him for a moment, before exhaling and mumbling his name as he felt the cum spilling on his Tony's hand messily. 

 

Tony was throbbing in parts of where he didn't want to throb when Peter stopped grinding against him and sighed. He jumped when he felt a hand in the front of his pants, gripping his erection though it; he shook his head and gripped the boy's wrist, "Kid — _Peter—_ "

 

"It's ok," Peter whispered and fought against his hand, "I want to, Tony."

 

"No—" 

 

" _I want to_." 

 

Tony stopped struggling when he looked into Peter's eyes, he let his hands rest at his side as the boy breathed in the side of his face and got a hand inside his pants and stroked with uncoordinated movements, the way Peter's hand moved under the blanket was shameless and it got Tony coming as he gripped the boy's waist and swallowed his own groan. He cleaned their hands in the blanket, deciding to deal with eat later. Tony ignored the look of adoration that the kid gave him as he cleaned them up and hugged him again.

 

He didn't have time to feel guilty or regret anything, because the world was ending amd Peter's breathing was calm as he rested his head on his shoulder and whispered a small  _'thank you'_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the two readers that ALWAYS comment in the chapters, this is for you:)
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
> 
>                  —Corinthians 4:17-18

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

 

The air was algid, slipping through a small hole in the wide window, it was freezing and icy.

 

But, Tony wasn't cold.

 

" _Please_."

 

The young boy clutched Tony's shoulder desperately as he let the man between his legs. The skin of his neck was warm against his lips, he kissed it tenderly, hesitating a bit, but the desire was stronger so he didn't think twice. 

 

"Good boy, good boy," He muttered as his hands keep pleasuring Peter, making him pull out erotic moans and soft sounds that got Tony feeling light-headed.

 

"I'm gonna come, Tony. I'm—" The brown eyed boy gasped, pulling the other closer by his shoulder and sighing softly before a warm liquid appeared on Tony's pale and fingers.

 

He wanted to refuse and he  _actually_ shook his head, but he let Peter get into the covers to stroke and lick his member without experience.

 

Since their first intimacy, Tony hated himself, feeling putrified, weary and repulsed; but,  _god,_ just the way that Peter looked at him the morning after, with this simple adoration and care, there wasn't a hint of sadness or panic of their previous actions.  _That,_ got Tony feeling just a but better, but still —What would his wife think if she was alive, that he put hand on a teenager, on a minor? Or someone that  _could_ be their son?

 

Tony was old enough to be Peter's father for fuck sake!

 

He was a pedophile and what not. It was a sin, if he was a religious person in another life time, he would've been contorting in the grounds of hell, but he  _did_ was one day a right moral man, with ethics and respect that knew what was right. 

 

Tony  _still_ knows. Only, he chose to ignore it.

 

Was maybe his desperation? His lack of human contact? His mind going _finally_ nuts after walking and walking on white roads and watching people get killed? Or maybe the fact that a young boy presented himself in front of him to please and obey whatever Tony had to say?  

 

He didn't know the answer for his controversial questioning —What he knew was that he allowed himself to keep touching the boy in a indiscret way, just for the mere freedom of being aware that there wasn't a punishment for men like him; that the world's aphorism and rules ended a long time ago and that  _no one_ probably will be able to find out.

 

Whenever Tony sees the large signs, big, bold letters carved in wood; saying things like:  _The end is near_ and —  _Where's our world?_

 

That, got him realizing that what he was doing wasn't the _worse_  action ever. Because, people in other places were killing, raping, torturing and  _just_  hurting.

 

So when he made Peter moan and come every night, he didn't feel as bad as he used to.

 

-

 

They were lucky, Tony was  _feeling_ lucky when they came across this good looking camp, it seemed like a small community, he had a good perception of the place when they stood in front of the wide door; they could hear children playing and laughter, Peter had squeezed his hand tightly and smiled up at him (they've been holding hands a lot lately) Tony was a little anxious at first but when the doors opened, he settled down and accepted the pats on his back of the strangers.

 

They first had to stood in the entry to comply with the protocol of access; he didn't let go of the boy's hand, out of fear or preoccupation, but one of the men securing the place and holding large guns nodded at their hand and asked: 

 

"It's only you two?"

 

Tony had hummed, almost passing unnoticed.

 

"What's your name?"

 

"Anthony," He coughed slightly, "Stark, at your orders."

 

The man had nodded shortly as a thank you, "And the boy's name?"

 

"Peter."

 

"Just let them in, boss. We're freezing our asses off," One of the man in the corner said as he rubbed his hands together. 

 

The 'boss' turned around with a frown and pointed at a door, "If you don't feel like being here you can go, Sam."

 

Tony watched the other male shook his head and repositioned his gun, Tony began to speak, "So—"

 

"That your son?" The blond man motioned at Peter.

 

Tony didn't know how or  _why_ he nodded without thinking, maybe just for the mere reason of protecting themselves - _Peter-_ he couldn't imagine what they would think or even _sanction_ Tony if they found out that they were something more that father and son, than friend and buddy or that they were just some innocent relationship and that Tony wasn't a depraved man 'abusing' a minor — _God,_ he didn't even wanted to think about it.

 

"He is."

 

He remembers the quick, interrogative look that Peter sent him, but he couldn't answered with his eyes because the other man had more questions.

 

"Kid, that your father?" He pointed at Tony shortly.

 

He squeezed Peter's hand in comfort, hoping for him to lie back; Tony gave a small sigh of relief when the boy nodded slowly, "Y-yeah, sir."

 

"From where are you coming from?" The man asked, looking back at Tony and getting closer, "You don't seem clean enough to be coming from another community."

 

Tony scoffed, "Yeah, well, we've been on the road for quite a long time." 

 

"Right," He had hummed slightly, "Wife?"

 

"Gone." 

 

"Sorry," The man with blue eyes said, mostly looking at Peter, "We've all lost someone since everything started."

 

The brown haired boy nodded again, looking down and gripping Tony's hand tightly.

 

"They seem harmless, boss."

 

The blond man had nod, he had a firm expression, liberating this sense of authority and respect, it even made Tony looked away when the blue eyes stayed on his face, studying him for a few seconds, "Come on in then, it's gonna get dark soon."

 

Tony actually gave a sigh of relief and let go of the boy's hand and hug his shoulders tightly, pulling him close as the gayes closed loudly and the man to seem to be in charge walked beside them stiffly, he spoke, "My name's Steve," He nodded at both of them, "Steve Roger, at your orders and welcome to the _'Assemble'_ "

 

"That's the name of this place?" Peter poked his head to look at Steve with widened eyes, "It's huge."

 

Steve chuckled slightly and nodded, looking at the boy, "It is."

 

The brown haired man gave a tight smile, "Thanks for letting us in, Mr. Rogers."

 

The blond man shook his head and raised his hand, "Please call me Steve."

 

"Steve, then —So, for how long are we allowed to stay?"

 

"How long are you planning to stay?" 

 

Tony looked at Peter, thinking quickly and searching for an answer in the brown eyes; he wasn't entirely sure if  _they_ wanted to stay, he still wanted to see if the place was secure or safe and he wasn't entirely sure if he could deal again with socializing and following some rules, he was about to turn around before Rogers cleared his throat.

 

"You can think it over the night, Anthony," He patted his back, "But, let me tell ya, we could really use some hands here in Assemble. I can assure you it's a violence-free community and with hard working man and women, so you don't have to worry about your boy there," Steve nodded towards Peter and winked at him, earning a small smile from the boy, "We actually have an education program for the young in here, it's handled by my wife Natasha, I'm sure your boy will enjoy to hang around with boys and girls his age, Anthony. I can't really imagine what you both saw out _there."_

 

"So, I'm guessing you've had this thing going on for a while then?" Tony pointed up and looked at his surroundings.

 

"Almost since _everything_  started."

 

The place was big and organized, people were quietly working in different tasks and some children were running around, they seemed well dressed and there was a small playground, Tony could see too a small building filled with windows and lights on, it was as if the place was a small town and they just surrounded the place with wide and tall metal plates.

 

It wasn't as cold, Tont noticed that when Peter took off his jacket and looked around in awe. His heart ached.

 

"The light. You have power. That's magnificent," Tony grinned widely, "You have a light generator."

 

"You seem like a smart man, I like you, Anthony," Steve smiled slightly and patted his back again as he guided to through the place, "We get the diesel when we go in runs outside."

 

"Right," He nodded and looked back when the younger boy stayed behind looking at something, he raised a hand, "Peter, don't go to far."

 

The blond man smiled sympathetically, "It's safe here. You don't have to worry anymore."

 

Tony sighed and nodded again, "Still gotta keep my head up, you'll never know —Outside is like a fucking warzone."

 

Steve nodded, "You won't have to see that again —Your  _son_ won't have to see that again if you stay here. You should, Anthony."

 

He nodded but didn't answered.

 

"That lady was making scarfs," Peter suddenly came running behind him and gripped his hand again, "I need a new scarf."

 

"What?" 

 

Steve laughed, " _That_ lady is my wife and I will make sure that she gives you one as soon as you two settle in."

 

"Really?" Peter smiled widely.

 

The blond man ruffled his hair as a response and Tony felt a calmness filled his body, something that he hasn't had in a long time or something that he couldn't grasp on it for longer than five minutes because on the  _road_ they have always been running and not looking back; he smiled slightly, running his thumb up and down his hand tenderly, choosing to worry later.

 

"The diner room it's over there," Steve pointed ahead of him, "We have plenty of food; but I'm guessing you two want to shower and rest first?"

 

Tony sighed and nodded, "Please."

 

"I'll show you your room for tonight."

 

When Steve guided to a big construction, filled with numerous rooms and doors, he couldn't help but look at every way in precaution, he noticed the residents eyes on them, gazing at them longingly. He felt sane and ok when he noticed that there wasn't men or women like in the camp that he found Peter, there were only people that seemed _decent_ and good, the atmosphere was serene; he even saw a pregnant young lady smiling widely.

 

Fuck —This _had_  to be their place to finally settled down... Right?

 

"Here were are." 

 

Steve interrupted his thoughts and he looked up and found an opened door showing two individual bed; it was small but it seemed new and comfortable —It was at least fucking better than a rusty house filled with dust and dead bugs.

 

"Thanks, man."

 

The blond man nodded and sighed, "This is a temporal room, but if you decide to stay. I'll assign you a much bigger one and more importantly, it will be permanent."

 

Tony nodded once and entered the room, "Again, thanks for letting us in," He whistled at Peter's way when he was distracted looking at the books in a small desk in the corner, "What do you say, kid?"

 

Peter looked up with wide eyes and walked towards the again, a faint blush covered his cheek and Steve smiled, "Thank you, Mr. Rogers."

 

"There will be playing a movie tonight in the community room, boy. So you should check it out," He ruffled the boy's hair again and started walking away, "If you need anything. Please do let me know.  _Welcome_ , folks."

 

The door closed and Tony leaned his head against it with closed eyes, sighing longingly; after a whole minute of resting there, he turned around when the bed's springs cringed loudly in the room, he found the boy jumping up and down with a wide smile on his face, "Look, Tony. It's so soft!"

 

Tony grinned fondly and walked towards the opposite bed, he sat and laid down right away, he felt like drifting off to sleep without a single problem, his arms and legs were weak as he kicked off his shoes, "Peter, I'm—"

 

He cut himself off with a groan when he felt a body landing on top of him carelessly, knocking some air out of him and a lega kicked him slightly in his groin, he winced and opened his eyes, "Christ, kid. What has gotten into you."

 

Peter smiled, straddling his waist and positioning his hands on each side of the man's head, "We're staying, right?"

 

Tony shrugged, "I have to think about it, Peter and —"

 

"What on earth do you have to think about, Tony?" The brown eyes boy groaned, "You saw it yourself, it's safe!"

 

"We still have to take a look a around," He mumbled, reaching a hand up delicately and brushing back the hair that fell on the boy's forehead, "What's rule number one?"

 

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed, "Check your perimeter." 

 

"That's right," The older man hummed, "Now get off. I'm gonna pass out," He was about to push him, but Peter spoke quietly.

 

"Tony," He looked at him, "Why did you said that you were my dad?"

 

He took a deep breath in and looked away, he thought for a few seconds and then shrugged, "Protection, kid." 

 

"But—"

 

"We can afford —  _I_ — can't afford having someone to suspect that _something_ it's going on," Tony raised his voice a little bit, but then sighed and closed his eyes, trying to calm down, "Didn't you see the religious crosses plastered all around the place? If they know what's going on they will crucify me."

 

Peter looked down and nodded.

 

"We were too close together and we were holding hands — _My bad—_ I forgot to let you go and—"

 

"I forgot to let you go too, Tony," He mumbled.

 

"I know, sweetheart. _Just_ let me finish," The brown haired man pushed him off and sat down, "If we're gonna stay here, we can keep doing what we were doing outside, Peter."

 

"Why are you making such a big deal about hands holding?" Peter frowned.

 

"It's not just  _that,_ kid. It raised Rogers' head for a reason, it's not normal,  _we're_ not normal," Tony shook his head, "They think now that you're my son, if you weren't my real son it wouldn't be normal for me to hold your hand. It's not normal — _Fuck._ What the hell am I saying now?"

 

"Stop worrying," The boy held his hand but Tony pulled it away quickly.

 

"They can't —" Tony sighed and clenched his eyes closed for a moment, "We can't keep doing  _this._ Because, if they find out; this place will be where we don't belong."

 

They stayed silent for a few minutes, Peter sat down beside him, pulling a small distance and looking down with hunched shoulders, they only sound was their breathing until Peter sighed and looked up.

 

"I don't want _normal_ , Tony. I want you _._ "

 

"Kid—" 

 

Tony stopped himself when Peter stood slowly, he followed his movements with hia hand, and leaned back a little to create some space between them, his heart started beating fast when the boy's fingers touched shakily the buttons of his own shirt, he unbuttoned one, the small noise echoed in the room.

 

"Peter, stop that—"

 

" _Shh,_ " Peter smiled softly and unbuttoned another one, "It's fine."

 

"No, it's not," He said weakly, feeling like giving in, " _Behave_."

 

Tony has never seen the boy without clothes, not even when he was touching him, he avoid to look dowm everytime he unzipped Peter's jeans and pull down his underwear, they alway did it under a blanket, secretly and hotly; now he had the boy in front of him, undressing slowly and not taking his eyws off Tony, the light was to bright, illuminating thw side of Peter's face —Fuck, he looked so  _young_ and Tony closed his eyes.

 

" _Please._ Don't make me do this, Peter," He gulped, "You don't want this."

 

"I do," The brown eyed boy nodded slowly, his shirt was opened now, leaving all the pale skin in sight, looking welcoming and Tony allowed himself to stare down and admire the slim body before him, "I want  _you._ "

 

He looked up, catching the brown eyes, he looked and looked, they were both breathing heavily, as if they just run kilometers; Tony lifted his hand to touch the blush on Peter's face, he caressed the soft flesh, watching the other leaning against his hand and getting closer; all of hia morals seemed to be ignored because he slowly watched with lust Peter shrugging off the shirt, leaving him naked in the top and Tony found himself nodding guilty. 

 

He wasn't going to resist anymore, he _couldn't,_  not when Peter held his hands and guided them to touch his chest and belly, not when he moaned at the contact and got even closer,  _not_ when he leaned down and kissed Tony for the first time, inexperienced and dumbly.

 

He knew was going to hell when he stood up and kissed the boy harder, ignoring the cross hanging in the wall; but the faint whisper that came next made him forget every right in his mind.

 

"I want you, Tony."

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But, for Tony eyes, even after all the sensuality, libido and hormones that the boy manifested, he would always be the same, broken child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing this fic, even if it doesn't have that much of recognition. 
> 
> I think there are going to be two chapters left.
> 
> Hope you enjoy:)
> 
> Pardon my mistakes.

 

 

 

 

> Now the deeds of the flesh are evident, which are: immorality, impurity, sensuality.
> 
>                          —Galatians 5:19
> 
> * * *
> 
> * * *

 

 _"We can't keep doing this_."

 

-

 

            • **Immorality**

 

He promised, he well damn promised; just when they closed the door and Rogers walked away that he would  _never_ touch the kid again. He thought himself to be strong and have some sort of willpower, he thought that maybe the fact of being back in a civilization it will bring common sense or averageness to his mind; to make the old man that he used to be. 

 

The man who promised to love his wife for eternity and take care of his unborn child that died in his mother's womb, alone, desolated and never meeting the world.

 

 _But,_ here he was: stripping a teenager out of his clothes and kissing him like he had never kiss anyone before.

 

His fingers gripped pale skin, making it red and his growing beard scratched at the boy's neck, he took in the noises being delivered the soft hold on his shoulders, so pure and youthful.

 

He put his principles in the back of his mind — _how_ could he not? He had a naked body that he has being craving to see infront of him and somehow his wishes were finally granted.

 

They haven't showered since so long, there wasn't water and it was too cold to go into the rivers that strangely weren't frozen, but for Tony, himself could be filthy, smell filthy and feel filthy, but the boy infront of him, to his own eyes, he would never see Peter like that, he was always this perfect boy, crazy to please, innocent and kind; to him Peter would always be shimmering and proud, always perfect and clean, never filthy; not even when the boy got on his knees in front of him.

 

His perfect boy.

 

            **•Impurity**

 

The innocence in his eyes was conserved for a while, weirdly enough. His touches and gestures against Tony skin felt inexperienced and immature.

 

When he opened opened the water faucet and warm water splashed down the shower, he watched Peter's back got red and all the dirt fall to the wet grounds making the crystal water brown, he stood behind him and rubbed his back tenderly, scratching sometimes and making the boy shudder.

 

At first, their actions were clear, clean amd even beautiful, there was no intention in the sin, he just wanted to make Peter feel good and safe, but his damaged mind made his body reacted when a young, wet body presented itself before his eyes, looking so invitingly. He had to  _have_ it. 

 

He did.

 

Everything was passing in slow motion, everything felt surreal. Depravation was present and it came from both of them, sinning and enjoying.

 

He hugged him for a while, but then Peter turned around, eyes big as ever and thin mouth searching for his lips, god, he was in _heaven._ Tony never imagined that one of his most wanted dreams would be to take away abruptly that sacred purity that a fifteen yeard has, he never imagined that the boy would beg for it. 

 

 _That —_ the sight of the boy whimpering, whining and moaning like a lost bitch, that made him stop thinking about him as the fragile, hurt, innocent boy that he always had as concept in his head. It made him feel less guilty and more aroused, he wasn't thinking anymore, he wasn't caring anymore.

 

Because, he was making Peter become an unpurified child and fucking _lived_  for it.

 

**•Sensuality**

 

They moved ever so carefully, it was in their nature. He cried when Peter cried of pain, he used the soap to try and make it the less painful that he could; he opened Peter up carefully, watching his face frowning in pleasure and pain at the new and exciting feeling, it was difficult they were but standing and Peter had a leg wrapped around Tony's waist to try and spread his legs more.

 

Fuck —He was so _willing._

 

Peter craved to be touched and admired, recognized and loved. He kissed Tony desperately when he pressed the boy to the wall and pushed inside him. Peter was warm and tight, it made Tony's head spin and skin itch. 

 

He couldn't find another word bit; _delicious_.

 

He was captivating, Tony knew that the kid was in pain even if he tried to fake it, but he made himself a mission to make Peter orgasm like he has never before. He wasn't heavy, he was such a light weight as Tony held him against the wall and thrusted inside him, he hoped to lord that the walls weren't too thin to others hear their noises.

 

Tony had smiled when Peter gave the first,  _real_ pleased moan, it was just when he moved his hips in  _that_ direction that got the young boy crying for more, asking for more and pulling Tony's hair for more.

 

It was all  _so_ new. They've been through a lot together, they' stayed together long enough and Tony never imagined that he would end up doing this with the boy that he saw hurting and lamenting in that rotten camp. He thought that he would _always_ respect the boy and protect him like a father.

 

He wanted to.

 

But,  _this,_ having sex, that a father didn't do to his children.

 

Tony was hoping to see Peter stay a child of god forever, to have that glime in his eyes that justified him, but the kid was growing up fast and becoming desperate to know, meet and experience, he was becoming slowly a young man and not longer a boy. 

 

But, for Tony eyes, even after all the sensuality, libido and hormones that the boy manifested, he would always be the same, broken child.

 

-

 

"I'm cold."

 

Tony chuckled and pulled the body closer to him, "You don't have to use that excuse no more, kid."

 

"Too obvious?

 

He hummed and closed his eyes.

 

"But, I am cold."

 

The older man hissed when he felt cold feet against him, "Where are your socks?"

 

"I lost them. They are somewhere in between the sheets."

 

After their rapid and thoughtless actions, they changed and laid in separate beds, trying to assimilate what had just happened, Tony's heart was beating fast in fear, just thinking about the consequences, someone finding out or the boy regretting it. But he felt relief when Peter's bed become empty and he climbed into Tony's in the middle of the night, pulling back that blankets and hugging the man.

 

The soft kiss left on his lips left him wanting more, but he suppressed it.

 

He was content and calm, barely thinking with a warm body by his side, he was finally in a decent bed, not suffering from cold and accepting the present; then Peter spoke, startled him slightly.

 

"What was that, boy?"

 

"Promise me something, Tony," Peter mumbled against his chest.

 

He sighed, uncertain and hesitant, "And, what is that?"

 

"Nothing's gonna change tomorrow."

 

Tony only squeezed his shoulder and nodded in the dark.

 

"Say it," The brown eyed boy lifted his head and tried to search for the other's eyes, "Say that nothing will change and that we will be the same after tonight."

 

He gulped, pulling him closer and nodding, a shiver run down his back but it wasn't from the cold, "Nothing's gonna change." 

 

"And we will do _it_  again?" Peter asked shyly.

 

"What?"

 

There was a silence, leaving Tony nervous and restless, he took a deep sigh, chest raising high and he was about to speak but the boy won, "We will make  _love_ again?"

 

Tony couldn't help it; he cringed at the innocent and sweet term —Was it really love? What he felt for the boy, was it fucking love?

 

"Tony?"

 

He gulped loudly and nodded without thinking twice, the selfishness and avarice where bigger than any right left in his mind, "Yes —We will, sweetheart. It's our  _secret_."

 

"What am I to you?" Peter's breath was warm against his covered flesh and he leaned down to kiss the top of his head softly and longingly.

 

There was long silence, it was maybe a few seconds, but it felt like minutes, because Tony was sweating and he was starting to breath hard, but then the hand on his bel resting and caressing up and down simmered him down. He gave a short sigh before speaking lowly:

 

"Outside this door you have to be my son, it's an act, in exchange of safeness," He closed his eyes in shame, the dark consumed him, "In _here,_ baby, you can be whatever you want for me." 

 

And the smile against his chest made his heart flutter and head hurt from happiness.

 

-

 

They had decided to stay. For the best.

 

The Assemble —How Steve likes to call his community— it was well organized and seemed to have a large amount of supplies. Tony noticed that when the next morning he and Peter walk around the streets and hallways. The community worked as the old world use to work; Tony didn't know if that was good. People had works, tasks, obligations and commitment. They had hours of breaks to eat and rest then they would go back to work.

 

It was as nothing has happened, not the polar cold, war, death and social debacle.

 

But, there still was this strange atmosphere of sorrow in the air.

 

Steve introduced them to the facilities, to some people and organizers; his wife Natasha was the second head in command there, a though woman with a confident voice that got Tony raising his eyes at her beauty. She somehow reminded him off Pepper; he felt calm when Natasha smiled at Peter and took him to meet the other kids in the community while he and Steve talked about any arrangements.

 

"He'll be fine, Tony," Rogers clapped his back twice, "He's in good hands and the kids here are pretty laid back."

 

He only nodded and continued to walk, Peter disappeared inside a building were a metal sign said ' ** _Education center_** ' — He fought against his own will to not just go and take him back to be against his side, the paranoia sometimes became unbearable.

 

"So, Steve," Tony sighed to distract himself, "What kind of work you've got for me and Peter?"

 

The blond man smiled slightly and nodded, "As far as I'm concerned; Peter only has to worry about learning what he didn't learn while he was out there —But,  _you,_ I certainly do think that you can be a good set of helping hands. You mentioned earlier that you were - _are_ \- a mechanic engineer, am I right?"

 

Stark nodded, "I believe so."

 

" _Right._ So, if you're willing, you can help in the making of several artefacts that not anybody can do, like help us fix a generator that has being broken for weeks now," Steve explained.

 

"You don't have an engineer?" 

 

"Not really," He shook his head and shrugged, "We have all kinds of people here, but weirdly enough, we've never come across an engineer. But, I guess, today is our lucky day."

 

Tony smiled, feeling at ease.

 

- 

 

Night came in quickly, it was getting colder and he hasn't seen Peter in all day.

 

Steve quickly gave him something to do and he was glad, because being in this old workshop filled with electronics and machinery that needed to be fixed could keep him happily busy and from worrying to much, he didn't noticed that it was getting dark until the cold in the room became more present and he had to turn on the heater.

 

At 7:00 supposedly everyone could stop doing whatever they were occupied with and they could roam in the streets, go to the diner room or to their respective 'houses' (It was only a room per family) but Tony left the workshop a bit late; it has been so  _long_ since he had somethingto do other than survive and search for food that he enjoyed his time fixing a simple light generator and this weird artefact that made him burn himself in the hand, but he laughed loudly at the familiarity.

 

He hasn't keep a long conversation with any resident, he was to weird and defensive still; he didn't care either to make any kind of friendship.

 

When sleep started making his eyes feel heavy and yawn, he arrived to his room and found the door locke, he had to nock twice and wait until it opened slowly, a head showed cautiously and then the door opened widely and Peter pulled him inside quickly by his hand before closing the door again.

 

"Kid—"

 

A small body colliding against his on cut him off; Peter was hugging him tightly and longingly, hiding his face in his chest and not letting him go. Tony stayed there, holding the boy even stronger, rubbing his back up and down because this kind of embrace, after all this time —He knew that Peter only hugged him like that when he is scared, the same way that he hugged Tony when they suffered together in that Walmart. It got him worried and he hushed Peter quietly in the middle of the room as he rocked him from side to side slowly.

 

"Peter—"

 

"Where have you been?" The brown eyed boy finally looked up, "I couldn't find Mr. Rogers and nobody knew where you were."

 

"I'm here now."

 

" _No!_ " He exclaimed and pulled away, "You can't just do that!"

 

"Peter, I was—" He started again but the other interrupted him.

 

"You can't just disappear and leave me alone, Tony!" Peter sniffed and Tont realized now guiltily that the boy was crying, his cheeks were wet and his eyes were red, "I thought — _Fuck!_ "

 

The older man raised his hand quick, "Hey, hey. Language, kid."

 

Peter scoffed and looked at Tony directly, "You're taking the role of a dad to seriously?" He wiped his eyes roughly, "Want me to call you daddy now?!"

 

Tony frowned, "Lower your voice.  _Now_. In case you want to be kicked off, Peter."

 

"I thought you left," The boy said brokenly and then turned around, giving his back to him and hugging himself, "I couldn't find you. I _needed_  you, a-and—"

 

"Oh, sweetheart," He gave a deep sigh and walked towards him, immediately pulling him close and resting his chest against his back, "I'm sorry."

 

"I thought you left me, Tony," Peter sniffed wetly, gripping Tony's arms around him, "I didn't—"

 

" _Shh,_ I'm here now," Tony whispered, "I would never leave you. I thought you knew that by now, kid."

 

"Where were you?" The brown eyed boy turned around. Tony looked down when he saw the pained expression on his face; it reminded him of the day that he found him. His stomach turned.

 

"I was working, Peter," He kissed his forehead and held him closer, "You don't have to worry. We're not outside anymore. We're safe."

 

"I wanna be with you all day, Tony. Like we always are," Peter mumbled, "Like if we were _outside_."

 

Tony shook his head, "We can't. If we're gonna stay, we have to follow the rules, sweetheart. It won't be that difficult. You'll get used to it."

 

"Get used to being away from you?" The boy pushed him away slightly, but Tony held his wrist tightly.

 

"I know it's different here and foreign, but it's the best for  _us,_ " He raised his eyebrows, "Do you wanna go back outside?"

 

There was silence and for a few seconds but then Peter looked up and shook his head slowly.

 

The older man sighed, "It was our first day. We will get used to it. It's gonna he hard. But, we  _have_ to."

 

Peter nodded and hide his face in his chest again, hugging Tony's middle strongly and breathed in, "I'm just afraid."

 

"I know," Tony nodded back and kissed the too of his head, "Me too, baby —But, we'll be just  _fine_."

 

They stayed like that for a few long minutes, holding eachother and breathing slow, there was no noise or interruption, the calmness and tranquility was magnificent and unbelievable. He just couldn't believe this —Was all of _this_  real? Or was Tony dreaming nicely and he would wake up in a wood floor with cold breaking his bones and the kid sleeping beside him, looking purple and hungry, but... At least either, in real life or a dream he still could have Peter by his side.

 

So everything was alright and Tony closed his eyes.

 

"Tony," He hummed and the boy whispered, "Take me to the bed and make me feel __good."

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He forced himself to stop thinking about it and blamed the guilt and shame in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Leave kudos and comments?
> 
> Honestly I imagine Harrison Osterfield as Harry Osborne for some reason but feel free to picture him as you want.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.

                                       — Matthew 7:7

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

" _Peter_!" 

 

_The familar voice suddenly sounded too close, he turned around with closed fist, waiting._

 

_"Hey there, pretty boy," A wide smirk appeared on Flash's face as he cornered the other in the brick wall, "You got what I asked for?"_

 

_Peter looked down and shuddered, "I c-couldn't. I tried, I swear, b-but—"_

 

_"Hey!" The brown boy punched a hand in the wall besides Peter's head, making him flinch quickly, "You know that I hate when you talk like that, Parker," He pointed a finger at his face and got closer, "Now, you couldn't get the gun from the shed?"_

 

_The other boy shook his head and whimpered silently when Flash grabbed his throat and pushed his head against the wall, "Flash —I, please!— I can get it tonight! It's just that Clint was guarding the shed and I—"_

 

_"I don't give a fuck why you couldn't get it, Parker," He mumbled and after a moment he started unzipping his pants quickly with one hand, "You know the consequences."_

 

_Peter breathed in harshly and tried to pull away and pushed him away, but his body was weak from not eating or drinking anything so he just stood pushing at the other's chest as ge watched him helplessly drag down his pants and underwear; a tear rolled down his cheek and he begged, "Please, Flash —Please, I don't want this. Please, I can get it tomo—"_

 

_Flash gripped his throat wich made the other boy gasp and put his own hands over his, he smirked, "Get that mouth to work properly, pretty boy."_

 

_The brown eyed boy struggled when Flash pushed him down on his knees and tried to guide his face towards his crotch. Peter cried and groaned as he fought, he looked up at Flash and then bite his cock when he tried to forced it inside him, as Peter was spitting disgusted the other cursed and slapped his cheek roughly, sending Peter back on the ground and he tried to stand up, with a numb face and run away but Flash caught his feet and he started kicking at his sides as he cursed constantly and spat on him—_

 

Peter gasped for air and sat up rapidly, he opened his eyes and his chest moved up and down constantly; he jumped and yelled slightly when a pair of strong arms held his waist and tried to pull him closer, Peter kicked and tried to get away but then a mouth whispering against his ear made him shudder in fear.

 

"Shh, Peter, calm down. It's me. You're fine, baby."

 

"Stop—  _Please!_ —"

 

"Hey, hey, baby— It's me, Tony," The man whispered calmly, holding his arms together to stop him from punching around and rubbing the sweaty curls away from his face, "Open your eyes for me, Peter. It's not real, it's not _real_."

 

Peter breathed in deeply one last time, he opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings, he saw the small familiar room and the books on the desk, he saw the door of their bedroom opened and then he turned his head and found under the dimmed light brown eyes staring back at him worriedly, he looked down and whimpered when he realized that he was gripping Tony's arms forcefully, making the skin white where his fingers were.

 

"Sorry," He whispered, his body going limp slowly and leaning against the other, "I'm sorry—"

 

"Peter," The older man said, sounding loud in the room, "Everything is ok." 

 

They laid back again, their chest moved uo and down simultaneously, the only noise was their rapid breathing and occasional sighs. Peter didn't realize he was crying until Tony rubbed his back tenderly and wiped his wet cheeks with his thumbs as he shushed him quietly into sleep. 

 

The kisses being placed on his forehead and head made Peter sob and held the front of his shirt tighter, he hid his face in the crook of the man's neck before a noise startled him and he whispered, "Tony?"

 

He hummed.

 

"Someone's knocking on the door."

 

Peter pulled the covers up in his body again and watched Tony stood up quickly from the bed, cursing and searching for pants; there where a few knocks against the door and he frowned and looked at the hour, it was past midnight and it was colder for someone to be prowling in the corridors —Was he still  _dreaming_?

 

"Hold on, I'm —Hold on!" Tony said hurriedly, giving a last look at Peter before walking towards the door. He sighed, as to try and calm himself and then unlocked the door slowly and opened the door just a bit, peaking his head through a small crack.

 

The boy widened his eyes when he heard the voice of the person and he hurried to put on quickly his underwear under the sheets and the sweater that was laying on the floor.

 

"Tony, sorry to bother you at this hour," Steve's voice came muffled through the door, "But, someone let me know that there where some disturbance coming from this room —Everything's alright?"

 

"Yes, just —" Tony sighed and leaned against the door frame, "My kid had a nightmare."

 

Peter saw through the door crack the the blond man nodded, looking slightly alarmed, "Is Peter alright?"

 

Stark sighed and shrugged, "I think he is now."

 

"Right," Steve nodded again slowly.

 

The brown haired man sighed and smiled tightly, "Thanks for checking in, Steve. I really appreciate it," He started to close the door, but the other's hand interfered with the wood, placing a wide palm on it.

 

"Listen, Tony," Steve sighed, he looked uncertain, "It's just the protocol, I am forced to take a look around and make sure everything is _alright_  like you said. I'm positive you can understand stand that."

 

Peter sat up in the bed and turned the night lamp on, he looked around hurriedly and made sure that nothing was abnormal; his heart beat against his ribcage as he watched Tony nodded stiffly and stepped aside to let the other in. He found immediately the blue eyes on his face, scanning him and studying his surroundings.

 

"You're ok, Peter?" Steve mumbled and pointed at him, "You seem a little pale."

 

"Y-yeah," He smiled slightly, "Just a little cold."

 

The blue eyed man nodded and kept looking around. When he stopped infront of the perfectly made bed, Peter looked at Tony and he found him with an alarmed expression wich quickly erased when Steve turned around to look at him.

 

"No one's sleeping in that bed?" He asked and pointed at the furniture.

 

"Yes, but —Like I said; Peter had a nightmare, he's being having them since yesterday and I let him sleep in my bed to try and calm him down," Tony said causally, "I'm sure you can understand that, Mr. Rogers."

 

Steve nodded and walked up to him, he smiled slightly and patted Tony's shoulder, "Sorry that I had to do this. It's just to keep the residents at ease."

 

"I don't mind," He shook his head and nodded, "Than you, Steve."

 

"If you need anything, let me know," The blond man said slowly, but his eyes stayed mostly on Peter, eyeing him worriedly before he started to head to the door, "Goodnight, guys."

 

"Goodnight."

 

Tony sighed and closed the door behind him, leaning his back against it and closing his eyes.

 

"I'm sorry, Tony," The younger boy mumbled, "I shouldn't have yelled."

 

He shook his head and walked to the bed, "It's not your fault," Tony stood by the side and leaned down to caress the boy's cheek, "Are you feeling ok?"

 

Peter shrugged, "I don't wanna sleep again for now."

 

Tony scoffed and sat down beside him, leaning his back against the wall, "Neither do I."

 

They felt silent for a few minutes, the lamp illuminated only one side of the room and Peter moved closer to lean his head in Tony's shoulder, the hand placed on his own thigh made him sigh and hold it tightly, "I think I'm going crazy."

 

"Why's that?" The older man mumbled against his hair as he rested his face on his head.

 

"Sometimes I miss being on the road," He shrugged, "Like —I don't know— I guess that I miss not having to hide  _us_."

 

Tony only rubbed his hand.

 

"Do you think it would be better if he hadn't come to this place?" 

 

"Stop thinking about it, baby," The man kissed his head and closed his eyes, "We're just fine."

 

-

 

They were still awake when the sky was starting to turn yellow and pink, the light came through the only window in the room; the sight outside were the frozen mountains and big, grey trees; everything was silent but the wind hitting against the crystal and a small construction sounding far away in the community, Peter knew that he should be getting ready to go to the education center, but he was laying on his stomach and a calloused hand was rubbing up and down under his sweater, making thin goosebumps appear on his skin. 

 

"Your hair is getting long, kid," Tony mumbled and his other hand caressed the back of his head, "You haven't cut it since we got here."

 

"I'm not planning to cut it."

 

The man sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, " _Teenagers_."

 

He smiled, the light created a shadow in Tony's face as he laid on his side and stared at Peter, when his hand stopped by the small of his back, the boy closed his eyes.

 

"Don't stop," Peter mumbled and shifted, "Keep moving your hand, I'm about to fall sleep."

 

The older man chuckled, "We have to be up in a few minutes. Sleep is not an option, kid."

 

"Can you say that I feel sick and that I'll stay today,  _all_  day in my room to sleep?" He sighed when the other started fondlingthe skin of his back again, "Please, Tony?"

 

"Yeah," Tony raised his eyebrows, "And to have Rogers coming in here to sniff again?"

 

Peter huffed and rolled his eyes, "He won't do it again, Tony—"

 

"He will," He nodded and exhaled slightly, patting, " _Now —_ let's get ready, kid."

 

Tony patted his back on last time and started to stand up from the bed, but Peter held his arm and sat up slowly. Tony leaned against him unconsciously when the boy pulled at his arm and then placed his hands on Tony's neck, guiding him close and breathing against his face slowly.

 

"Peter—"

 

He ignored him and closed the distance between them, kissing his lips with an open mouth, he gave shy licks inside when Tony opened his mouth, he tasted like musk and brandy —Tony drank yesterday from a bottle of alcohol that he found in the workshop— Tony tasted foreign to Peter but he moaned softly and forgot when a hand gripped his hair and pulled his hair back; Peter was about to kiss him again but the hand gripped tighter.

 

"We don't have time for this," The man's lips brushed against him, "We can't—"

 

" _Shh,_ " He whispered, licking the parted lips before him, "Be can be quick.  _Please_. I need you."

 

Tony seemed to give up quickly because he sighed with a clenched jaw and leaned his back against the wall, fingers played with the waistband of Peter's underwear that fitted less loosely on his hips since they arrived to The Assemble. He moved towards the man on his knees, his skin dragged against the sheets pleasantly as he didn't look away from brown eyes. Peter pushed his hand away slightly and pulled down his boxers, revealing slowly each piece of pale skin to Tony, watching him licking his lips and eyeing him hungrily —The same way that when Peter change infront of him and Tony ends up kissing his shoulders and touching him nicely.

 

"Take this shit off already," Stark mumbled and pulled at the fabric of his underwear that was by his knees, he smirked, "Can't take too long."

 

Peter laid back and raised his legs to throw away the boxers, he didn't even care to take off the thin sweater because Tony was pulling him on his lap desperately and kissing him longing. He panted when air was needed and rested his forehead in the other's chin, when he opened his eyes, Peter watched Tony just taking out his cock from the zipper of his pants; he kissed him again harshly and sighed when his own hand moved to touch his cock and stroke him slowly, feeling him harden against his fingers.

 

"Shit—  _Hurry_ ," The brown haired boy whispered and pulled away when voices outside the door and loud banging noises signaled that people was already waking up and moving around.

 

Tony raised his hand and searched in between the pillows for the small tube of Vaseline that Peter stole from the nursing room when he went there and faked a stomach ache. Peter sat back on his legs and waited for him to open it when he found it.

 

"You're ok?" He asked and looked at Peter.

 

The younger boy nodded and shuddered when Tony guided a hand between his legs and rubbed the substance in him, caressing him tenderly and getting a finger inside for a short moment, he breathed out, "Tony—"

 

"I got you, I got you, sweetheart."

 

Peter didn't have to open his eyes to know that the man was lubricating his cock quickly, he just heard the slick noises and waited as he kissed the other's neck and jaw, his beard brushed lightly against his lips and chin when he felt Tony entering him with a small grunt.

 

They where moving fast, the pressure of the movements and noises outside forced Peter to forget the pain as he moved up and down hastily, frowning when springs of the bed cringed together and slowing down when it became to loud. The hands fondling the skin under his sweater made him feel warm, pulling Tony closer by his neck and kissing him deeply. He was getting close as he grinded himself against the man, he didn't realize he was letting out sounds from his mouth but Tony shushed against his lips and gripped his hips.

 

"You have to be quiet, baby."

 

Peter shook his head quickly and whimpered, "Feels too good."

 

"Can you be quiet for _me_ , Peter?" Tony said sweetly and fucked his hips up, smiling when the boy gasped and nodded.

 

"Tony, please, I — _Tony,_ " The boy whispered desperately as they moved hotly together.

 

"We don't have time," Stark's forehead rested against his, "Come for me, sweetheart heart. I know you're close."

 

Peter exhaled and trembled when pleasure invaded his body suddenly, he ignored his surroundings and concentrated on the feeling in his lower belly and the lips on his lips and a tongue rubbing inside his mouth. He waited a few moments and then Tony bit his shoulder and a warm liquid filled him slowly; Peter closed his eyes and breathed in with difficulty as they pulled away and he laid on his back, chest moving up and down.

 

"Let's get cleaned up," Tony mumbled after a few seconds and he patted the boy's knee, "You'll sleep later, baby."

 

"I'm tired," The brown eyed boy stared at the ceiling.

 

"I know," He nodded and smiled sadly, "Tomorrow's rest day. We can stay here all day or go watch a movie in the community room."

 

"Promise?" Peter smiled.

 

"Promise, kid."

 

-

 

The air was cold, it entered through an opened window, hitting his face and he held a bottle of water, his lips felt sore, like his legs hurt from sitting down for a long time; he wanted to stand up and walk out of the room but what Natasha was saying was saying from the front was interesting enough to keep looking at her explaining and waving his hands around.

 

Something hit his back and he turned around with a frown, he looked down and a crumbled piece of paper was laying in the ground. There was a boy and a girl staring at him, the girl waved, "Hey," She smiled widely, "You're the new kid, right?"

 

Peter nodded and was about to turn around again but the boy spoke, "What's your name?"

 

He hesitated fir a second before answering quietly, "I'm Peter."

 

"You know your way around here yet?"

 

"Not really," He shrugged.

 

"Want us to show you around after this finishes?" The girl asked. She seemed kind, her hair was black and her skin brown, she was pretty and tall, like the kind of girl that Peter would've like when he was  _still_ studying highschool but his eyes and body no longer feel attracted to girls —He nodded and gave them a small smile.

 

"I'm Liz by the way," She said and then pointed beside her, "And, this is Harry."

 

When their 'class' finished, Peter walked out of the room and he saw them leaning against the wall and waiting for him. He was feeling uneasy at first but then the other boy placed an arm around his shoulders and started walking him around the big place. 

 

Most of it, Steve had already showed him and explained him but Liz and Harry showed him the same and sometimes made him laugh. It's been a long time since he interacted with someone his age, his only conversations had been with Tony wich almost always was too grumpy or tired to answer back so he just settled into listening to Peter.

 

They came across the diner room and decided to sat down and rest, Harry and Liz were talking until he turned around and look at Peter.

 

"So, dude," He started, "With who you were with when this whole thing started?"

 

Peter gulped down his food quickly, "Just my aunt."

 

"Is she here?" Liz asked and her smiled erased when Peter shook his head and looked down, "Sorry."

 

"It's fine," He shrugged, "I guess she's in a better place now."

 

"She is, don't worry," Liz smiled and placed her hand on top of his.

 

"So you came here alone?" The other boy asked.

 

Peter coughed and grimaced slightly, "N-no, actually, I came here with my dad."

 

"Oh, cool," He nodded and grinned, "I'm here with my dad too, dude."

 

"Cool."

 

-

 

The day went slow, but it was starting to get dark and the temperature was dropping, he pulled the scarf that Natasha gave him tightly around his mouth, his fingertips were starting to turn blue as he held the hot chocolate that an old lady offered him. Peter only saw Tony once and he slumped his shoulders when the man pretended not to see him and kept walking ahead, but he didn't got mad when he saw Steve walking towards him, a large gun was placed behind his back and he was sporting a small smile. Peter looked down and shifted on his seat.

 

He saw two boots appeared on his eyesight, "Hey, kid."

 

Peter looked up, eyes looking from above the white cup, "Hi, Mr. Rogers."

 

"How's the place welcoming you?" The blond man spread his arms and looked around.

 

"It's been great," He nodded and smiled lightly, "I'm still getting used to it."

 

Steve sat down beside him, "I imagine," He patted his shoulder, "But, you're ok, right?"

 

"Totally, sir," Peter nodded again and distracted himself by taking a sip of the brown liquid in his cup.

 

There was a small silence and Peter thought about making a simple excuse to stand up and fo away but the older man spoke again and he looked up, "How's your dad?"

 

He frowned and turned away his head, "Fine, I guess, Mr. Rogers."

 

"Good," Steve nodded and then sighed, when Peter turned around again there was an uncertain expression on his face, blue eyes found his, "Listen, son, if you  _ever_ need my help—"

 

Before Peter could stopped himself, he spoke firmly and clenched the cup in his hands, "Help with what?"

 

"I don't know, son, I just get this feeling that you two went through a lot out there and i just can't imagine what _exactly_  happened, but —don't hesitate and come to me, alright?" The blond man said while looking directly at him, "You don't have to be afraid anymore, Peter."

 

"Thanks, Mr. Rogers."

 

"You should probably head back to your room," Steve mumbled, "Tony must be wondering where you are."

 

The boy's heart was beating fast and he wondered fearfully _what_  on earth did the man meant or why was he so focused on making sure that Peter was ok —was it because of what he saw that night? When Peter was plastered in the bed, sweating with nervousness and gripping the sheets? Or was it because he maybe and _sometime_  saw a gesture or a touch coming from Tony that sent the wrong idea?

 

When Steve walked away with a last ruffle on his hair; Peter wanted to convince himself of his disturbed thoughts that it was just his mere paranoia of getting _caught_ doing what possibly was wrong, but they weren't doing anything wrong... Right?

 

He forced himself to stop thinking about it and blamed the guilt and shame in his chest.

 

Peter got to an empty room, the only light was coming from the window and that night he chose to rest in his own bed with a sick stomach; he ignored and pretended to sleep when the door opened and a kiss was placed on his forehead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel dirty, y'all
> 
> I'm not sure about this chapter and I'm thinking about deleting it, so let me know?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tried to focus only in the fact that Peter was safe and happy and convince himself that Steve wasn't suspecting and that it was only his paranoia and uneasiness awareness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit guys it took me WEEKS to get this chapter done, because I was deleting it and starting again, because my inspiration has been shitty lately, but I hope this chapter is good for you:)
> 
> Thanks to all my lovely readers that support and comment in every chapter, but I'd like to say an enormous thank you to my friend Restless_Reader for helping me out with the plot and ideas, love you boo!
> 
> Btw I'm sure as hell that there are a lot of grammar mistakes because it's literally three in the morning and I'm fucking tired, but I wanted to post this for you guys.
> 
> Enjoy the reading!

It was past afternoon and the sun was just hiding, it was just starting to get colder and the wind was getting louder against the windows, but the room felt abnormally warm, it almost made Tony's skin itch uncomfortably from being used to the cold so much, but the heater was high and he was moving his body towards the bathroom, for the forbidden action that  _they_  were going to perform.

 

Tony had spent most of the last weeks working and occupying his mind, he would only see the boy a few times a day —but, it was for the  _best,_ he promised themselves; because, it wasn't a lie that Steve had his sharp eyes on them most of the time, looking for any odd behavior. He became exasperated when Peter told him casually one night that Steve kept asking questions, but he chose to play blind just to preserve their room in The Assemble.

 

So, he chose,  _again,_ for the best, to arrive late to their shared room, to only touch and speak to the boy in the comfort of the close door; without having to worry about any fucking suspections or commands, because Tony only felt safe in the under the dark and on the bed, holding the boy close to his chest, as to show protection and protect _himself_.

 

The sun was just hiding behind the grey trees and montains, the clouds were turning a deep blue as the moon began to showed up; Tony's fingers were still sore from the cold and from working all day in the workshop, but they tingled pleasantly when he gripped harder the boy's skin, making it flushed and bruised on the hips.

 

" _Tony_ —"

 

"Baby—"

 

His words got keep getting stuck, he only take deep breaths in and panting sometimes; the wet echo of the water falling in the floor sounded around Tony's ears, but soon he got distracted by Peter's moans, numbing his senses. 

 

He could feel the water falling on his back softly, almost caressing him, like the hair on his forehead was sticking uncomfortably and he felt like he could slip at any moment from carrying the light weight of the boy in his arms, but he didn't care — _not_ when Peter was looking up at him with halfclosed eyes, gazing at him longingly, his arms hugged tightly his broad shoulders and his legs held onto Tony strongly, almost as if he was afraid to fall down as quick thrusts made his body move up and down, back grinding against the cold wall behind him.

 

Peter's mouth wide open, letting out hot breaths and sighs, it seemed like it was calling Tony to kiss, because he leaned down quickly and licked inside the small mouth, tasting sweetly: chocolate and mint, something tha he wasn't used to until the arrived to civilization.

 

It was almost heartwarming at how the boy was responding to the kiss —even from all the times that he and Tony had done _it;_ he still seemed unsure and inexperienced— from licking messily Tony's tongue and teeth and then biting desperately his bottom lip, tugging at it as he threw his head back to gasp at a certain deep thrust that Tony made, accompanied with a grumble.

 

" _Oh —_ there, Tony," Peter almost sobbed, head going back down, their mouths collided again, but this time they didn't move their lips together; Tony just enjoyed the breathless pants that the boy was emitting inside his mouth.

 

The legs on his waist gripped him, making him get closer, plastering Peter against the wall and hissing when the back of his head hit it, but it soon got forgot it when Tony shifted their position and rested his forehead against Peter's.

 

The bathroom was small and _every_  sound echoed, making Tony's heart skip faster at the eroticism of the mere situation, it was like Peter's little moans and gasp could be buried inside his head forever, sometimes he's awoken by them, thinking that Peter is touching himself next to him in the bed, like he used to do when they were outside — but, the boy would br fast asleep, snoring and breathing softly —and all that Tony can realize is that, most of the times, the sounds appear in his dreams. 

 

There was something about fucking Peter in the bathroom, he didn't know if the reason was because they could be as loud as they wanted, the water and door secluded their sounds or maybe it was just the the mere _reason_ of getting to watch the boy's damp skin and brown curls clinging hotly to his forehead, their hot breaths mixing with the fog that the warm water emitted—

 

Like the other day that they were just getting ready for bed and Tony was so fucking tired that he was barely walking, but then he opened the bathroom door and he found the boy, wet and glistening from a shower, naked back and legs were facing him as Peter brushed his teeth and Tony just couldn't get the _urge_  to go away when Peter looked at him from the mirror, doe eyes eyes widening when Tony walked up to him and slammed him against the sink, maybe it was all the stress from laying, the preoccupation or madness —but, he couldn't resist the boy infront of him that so pliantly bend over in the white sink with toothpaste still around the corners of his mouth as Tony fucked him from behind quickly and roughly. 

 

He felt guilty about his careless actions and that he always treated Peter with delicate touches and hands, but the guilt soon went away when Peter came harder than he ever has since they started.

 

A peculiar harsh bite on his lips dragged Stark away from his thoughts (he almost scoff about how a sickening mind he had that even when he was having sex with Peter, he was _still_  thinking about having sex with Peter — as confusing as that was) Tony opened his eyes and immediately found the brown orbs staring at him intently, almost begging and asking. He leaned down to peck Peter's lips sweetly in comparison with his harsh hips movements, he obtained a sigh in return and a small smile.

 

Pale fingers then held both sides of his face, fondling his damp beard; Peter started to grind himself on Tony, rubbing his cock against his belly as he whimpered helplessly.

 

"I wanna come," Peter whispered, sounding loud in the four walls.

 

"Then come," He mumbled, licking distractedly inside the other's mouth.

 

"Touch me?" The boy asked shyly, lips curving up slightly at Tony as he gripped his larger hand and guided towards his cock, "Please?"

 

" _Sweetheart_ ," Tony said affectionately, an involuntary smile plastering itself on his face as he obeyed. He watched with mirth how Peter contorted in pleasure, hands gripping tightly the hairs in the back of Tony's head, encouraging his hips to move faster and give sucking kisses in the wet skin of the boy's neck, marking it red.

 

He only stared at the way that Peter gasped and threw his head back, jaw tightening afterwards as he came on Tony's hand, his lips searched desperately for Tony's, even if they would just join their mouths messily, letting the water clean the spit away from the dirty lick that Peter was doing as he whimpered slightly, going slowly limp in Tony's arms as the pleasure was overpowered by the sensitive feeling that camr afterwards coming.

 

The small bathroom secluded the little noises that Peter was doing so he didn't worried about having to place a hand in the boy's mouth to not raise any heads outside; Peter sighed shakily when he dropped him carefully in the white tile, his knees wobbled and his arm held tightly around Tony's neck for support. He was visibly shivering and his eyes looked exhausted, so when Peter reached down to touch him; Tony protested silently and got a hold in the smaller hand, caressing softly the palm and shaking his head.

 

Peter quickly pecked his lips longingly, comforting the man in some way, " _Please_."

 

Stark nodded, resting his hands in the wall, just beside the boy's head as he closed his own eyes and allowed Peter's hand to get him off, stroking his length hurriedly as his other hand rested on top of his chest and caressed the hair in there.

 

It was quick when his head cleared and he groaned tiredly, moving his hips lazily as he held Peter close. He placed themselves under the water spray, breathing in deeply and feeling the still warm water falling on their backs, the sensitivity making the flesh red and glow. Tony closed his eyes —he weirdly lets them shower together, for the mere reason of _always_  ending up fucking, even if the after it's delightful, the only time and place that he can be vulnerable, hugging the kid's middle and hiding his face in his neck as he allows the pale fingers caress his skin tenderly, small kisses placing themselves on his tense shoulders until he forgets about present time, he breaths in deep, reminding the essence of Peter, until it calms him and ignore the wind and blood outside.

 

Because, Peter has become _his_  only reason to live and fight, even if can takes his own life away.

 

-

 

It was colder than it has been in the last week, his fingers seem to keep contracting against the screwdriver as he tried to fix this old  _Discman_  that he found in the corner of the small workshop; he was doing it for mere distraction because he finished mending the other few things that people have left him during the passing days (he still found irresponsible the amount of energy that the community consumed through the light generator) and he thought that maybe Peter would like the music device —they'll just have to borrow some CDs from the community room.

 

Tony just felt an ache in his chest everytime that he realizes how fucking  _young_ and little Peter was when the whole thing started —he couldn't be a normal teenager when they were outside, so now that they were under a safe place, he made himself a promise to make the boy at least get the taste of what  _used_  to be a normal life, that implying listening to music or watching goddamn movies with the community even if everyone knew that people were killing and hurting eachother outside.

 

The kid sometimes cried when the pressure of just  _surviving_ in the road got to much for his immature mind and he would end up in his arms, clenching his shirt and mumbling incoherently about how much he missed his aunt and how he  _lost_  her — _how_ he had to watch her die because nobody in the camp cared enough to treat her illness.

 

His stomach twisted at the memorie of hearing Peter's broken sobs until he ended up falling sleep close to him.

 

Tony knows a lot about the boy and who he was before the end of days, but he's certain that Peter doesn't know  _anything_ about him because everytime that he was asked something about the past, he would just grumble and ignore, leaving the boy to just look down and never ask again.

 

He cursed when he dropped a small screw in the ground due his distraction in his deep  non-stop thoughts.

 

They've been here already for a month and a half, but Tony still felt on edge, his was still alert and looking everywhere, mostly when Peter wasn't by his side —he  _never_  thought that he will feel this anxiety and uneasiness whenever he was apart from the boy, but it was just this  _horrible_  imagination in his head of every possibility of what could happen.

 

He grown so used to being outside and just alone that he  _still_ can't get use to the kindness and safeness of The Assemble, but Peter's contentment made him feel at ease.

 

It was unexpected when the door of the workshop opened and Peter came running through the door, wearing a wide smile and holding something wrapped in napkins in his hands, he crushed Tony with a hug, making him stumble against the table and knock some things down. He couldn't help the grin to appear on his face as his arms wrapped around the boy's waist, squeezing him tightly and looking around him (as if someone was going to appear and watch in the secluded room) when Peter started pecking quickly around his face, leaving wet traces as he hugged his neck, trying to bring Tony down.

 

"Christ —" The older man chuckled, pushing him away slowly as he finally caught a close glimpse at the brown eyes before him, narrowing when the smile reach them, "What the hell are you doing here, kid?"

 

Peter leaned in and kissed his lips before Tony could stop him, "I wanted to see you."

 

"Don't you have 'school'?" Tony let go of him and crossed his arms, turning his head around, still paranoid when they showed affection outside a close door and bedroom.

 

"We finished earlier because Natasha had something to do," The boy shrugged and Tony hummed, faking suspicion and raising an eyebrow —Peter sighed and rolled his eyes, "I swear! She had to go on a run outside."

 

Stark grinned, hugging the other's shoulders with one arm and bringing him close again, he leaned down and pecked his forehead longingly, "What did you learn today?"

 

Peter shrugged again, leaning in the embrace as his eyes watched his own fingers playing with the man's jacket, "We just read about some colonization."

 

" _Some_?" He snickered.

 

"I don't remember!" The brown eyed boy groaned and threw his head back, "I fell asleep for a while."

 

Tony raised his eyebrows and let go of him again, moving aside when Peter tried to hug him again, "You can't do that, kid."

 

"I know—"

 

"It's not correct."

 

 _"I know_ ," Peter rolled his eyes dramatically.

 

"God," The man imitated him and gave a long sigh, "Teenagers. A lost cause."

 

Peter grinned widely and raised his occupied hand, "I brought you something to eat."

 

Tony looked at the napkins that were slowly starting to stain with food, "And, you already ate, Peter?"

 

The boy nodded and extended his hand towards him, frowning slightly when Tony didn't took it.

 

"How did you manage to get another ration?" Stark nodded at his hand and crossed his arms again, "Because, they're very strict with that shit—"

 

Peter interrupted with a sigh and he spoke, "I had to practically beg the cook to give me another sandwich. I stood there for like 30 minutes until he literally threw this sandwich at my face."

 

Tony stared at the wide eyes and how serious the other looked before chuckling and taking the food from the boy's hands, he sighed and took a big bite from the thin sandwich, "The guy probably spat on it, but I'm too hungry to give a shit." He took the boy's arm and pulled him close once again, accepting the shy kiss on his chin and small hands sneaking inside his jacket and searching for warmth.

 

The boy leaned into Tony's hand to take a bit of the sandwich and talked with the food still in his mouth, "Did you liked it?"

 

Stark lips twitched into a smile and he nodded, wiping away with his thumb small crumbs in the corner of Peter's mouth, before he lowered his voice, almost in a mumble, but it sounded clear and loud in the quiet room, "I really needed this; you know, baby?"

 

"Yeah?" Peter said breathlessly.

 

He hummed, "I was fucking starving before you came."

 

"I know, Steve told me that you haven't left the workshop since the morning that you arrived."

 

Tony frowned, passing unnoticed by the other, "He told you that?"

 

The boy nodded, "He actually took me here because I got lost.  _Again_."

 

He grinned, "And, he didn't tell you anything about the sandwich?" 

 

"I hid it," Peter smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

 

"Shame on you," Tony playfully said as he kept eating unhurriedly.

 

The boy looked behind him and separated himself, he reached and started touching curiously the things that Tony had messily displayed in the old table, he picked up a lamp and stared at as he talked again, not looking at the other's eyes, "You know, Tony —I like Mr. Rogers. He's nice."

 

Stark nodded and lowered his head, he cleared his throat uncomfortably and sniffed, "He is." He said plainly.

 

Peter looked up suddenly with wide eyes and rosy cheeks from the cold, "You like him?"

 

" 'course I do," He threw the napkin behind him and turned his body to face the kid, "He's a good fellow."

 

The boy nodded, "He kinda takes care of me when you're working."

 

Tony frowned slowly and muttered, "What do you mean?

 

"He's really nice, Tony. He's with every kid around here," Peter shrugged casually, "You remember the comic that I was reading the other day?" The man nodded and he continued, "Mr. Rogers found it in a run that he did and gave it to Harry and me to share it and he once gave us a bar of chocolate too. Like the one that you gave me for my birthday when we were outside."

 

" _Huh_."

 

The older man felt like his blood was boiling, but it soon faded away when he noticed Peter's smile wich made him grin too. He decided to not think about the Rogers situation, because he knew that the bastard had a soft spot on the kid since they arrived to The Assemble, like the first week that they stayed, he found Rogers playing soccer with Peter and a few kids (something that Tony would never do, due his lack of social abilities and bad mood) but, the boy seemed content so he walked away and hid himself in their room —he tried to focus only in the fact that Peter was safe and happy and convince himself that Steve _wasn't_  suspecting and that it was only his paranoia and uneasiness awareness.

 

Even if the blond man stare for too long whenever Peter and him were together.

 

"Tony?"

 

He looked quickly and found the other standing closer, brown eyes flicking through Tony's face and a small frown was forming in his eyebrows, "Sorry, kid. Just —I'm a little tired."

 

"We can get out early today. It's Friday," Peter said eagerly and shook the sleeve of Tony's jacket, "They're playing a movie in the community room, can we go?"

 

Stark smiled fondly and pecked the boy's forehead again, he fondled his cheek and nodded, "Why not?'

 

"Promise not to fall asleep?" The boy smirked.

 

Tony scoffed, "I don't promise that," He reached back in the table for something, " _Here_ , I got you something too."

 

He got a hold in the Discman and handed it to the boy, watching his confused expression and hesitant hold in the thing, "What is this?" 

 

"You don't know what it is?" The man sighed dramatically and shook his head.

 

Peter grinned, "I mean, I have seen it in movies. Does it plays music?"

 

Stark hummed, "We just have to get you some earphones; wich I'm sure I saw a couple in here and CDs from the—"

 

He couldn't finish his sentence because the kid knocked his breath out when he threw himself at his arms and held him tightly. Tony could feel his warm lips against his and he patted the boy's back before he pulled away, ruffling his brown curls playfully. 

 

Tony wasn't aware —even with the constant looks that he gave around the room— that Peter left the door slightly open, until a thin crack was there, he wasn't aware either of the shadow and a pair of eyes gazing through.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides because it's almost finished*


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because, no matter what, Peter kept looking at him with hopeful eyes and waiting to be told what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough cough* Civil War

 

 

 

>  Come, my people, enter into your rooms And close your doors behind you; Hide for a little while Until indignation runs its course.

                                           —Isaiah 26:20

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

"Steve," Natasha said, a frown was present on her forehead as she entered the room, she spoke once her husband was looking up from his desk, "I think you were right."

 

He leaned his elbows in the wood, noticing the light shine in the woman's eyes and the uncertain expression, "What do you mean?"

 

"Peter," She said simply and shook her head, "And his father. I think you were right."

 

Steve frowned and stood up, "What happened?"

 

"I think you'll want to hear this," Natasha said, head turning and her hand welcoming; it was till then that Steve noticed another young woman by the door, blue eyes stared back at him and her expression on her face had fear and something that he couldn't place, "Wanda, please come in."

 

He grabbed his wife arm softly and lowered his voice, "What the hell it's going on?"

 

She nodded at the other, "Hear her out, Steve."

 

Rogers straightened himself up and sighed, arms crossing unconsciously as he turned to look at the woman, "Wanda —what brings you here?"

 

She gulped and looked down, hand fidgeting together before looking up again, eyes more certain this time, "I saw something that —" A sigh was followed by Natasha nodding comfortably at her, "I saw _something_ , Steve."

 

"Like in your dreams or in real life?" Steve smiled slightly, trying to lighten up the atmosphere but his wife shook his head and widened her eyes; Wanda looked scared once again and he raised his hand, "My apologies. Please do continue."

 

"It was in the workshop." 

 

His eyes perked up at that and he looked at Natasha for a moment, looking for answers as his heart beat faster, "Mr. Stark's workshop?"

 

Wanda nodded, "Yes, I — _Steve_ , I am certain of what I saw and  _he_ was there, with his son and—"

 

Rogers raised his hand once again and his eyes clenched together, "Wait, I —fuck, I don't want to hear it," He held his own hips and was about to turn around but Natasha stopped him.

 

"You _have_  to," His wife said firmly, "So you know and we can take action in the matter as soon as possible."

 

Steve nodded and breathed in shakily, he could already feel bile forming sourly and madness filling his blood, even though he hasn't hear anything.

 

"I won't be grotesque about it. _It_  wasn't grotesque. I'll just tell you what I told your wife: I was just passing by the workshop," Wanda sighed and grimaced visibly, "And, I only know that what I saw in there, it isn't what a _normal_  father and son do."

 

Natasha looked down and Rogers actually bend over slowly and rested his hands on his knees, breathing in through his nose, increasing at every second as he muttered, sounding loud in the office, "Did the bastard was—"

 

He didn't even had to finish his question ( _thank_  God) because Wanda was shaking his head rapidly, she looked uncomfortable as she gulped again, " _No —_ just, I saw what I saw and they kissed once and hugged, but—"

 

Steve looked up quickly at that, blue eyes wide, almost filled with hope as his own expression made the other woman stop talking, "Just _that_?"

 

She nodded and Natasha frowned.

 

"Just that," He nodded to himself, _convincing_  himself as he straightened up again, "It's his son — I-i mean, it's normal, a hug and a kiss. They're close and maybe _we_  are just paranoid and judging a-and;  _god_ , they went through a lot outside and that kid looks up at his father more than anything and we were just thinking wrong because—"

 

" _Steve_ ," Natasha said loudly, arms crossed and tensed lips, "Not excuses. You suspected that something was going on and you're _right_."

 

"Maybe we thought wrong. It's his father—"

 

She got closer, rage behind her eyelids and Wanda looked down again, "Did your father kissed you on the mouth when you were fifteen?"

 

Her words were crude and _so_  honest, they were real and they made Rogers sigh and close his eyes. He shook his head to answer and leaned back in the desk, he said, words coming off and broken, "I need time to be alone and choose how to take action."

 

"Call me when you finish," Natasha said, softly this time as she guided the other outside.

 

Steve called and saluted the other woman, "Wanda. Thank you."

 

He was left alone and in silence — his eyesight was blurry and his fingers keep clenching. Steve has been eyeing Stark and his _son,_ detecting and suspecting, it just wasn't normal how they looked at eachother or how he sometimes caught the kid touching Tony's hand or thigh when he tho no one was looking or how Peter seemed to be afraid when Tony wasn't around, he's been looking at them since they arrived and he sometimes blamed his own mind going fucking crazy from this world, from imagining and then turning them into reality. 

 

He wasn't certain, he was clueless in fact, but in all honesty, deep in his heart, he didn't believe that Tony could do something like _that —_ Steve has been trying to find out, he has been waiting for the right time to come until he founds out the truth, he always thought that he would he flipping out of his mind and loading his gun, but... here he was, slumped in his seat and holding in his breath, refusing to believe the truth, the facts. 

 

He even tried to cover the situation, to refuse it, to _defend_  Tony, he tried to make an excuse and find a logical explanation, because,  _yes,_ he thought that he was overreacting and that it wasn't true, Tony and Peter, that they were just normal, maybe it wasn't real, but the veracity came. The one he was fearing the most and he didn't want to _believe_  it.

 

Steve panted and nodded, looking at the white sight outside the window before raising his voice, "Nat."

 

She appeared a few seconds later, red hair in flowing harmony as cold green eyes eyed him warily, her mouth twitched, but she didn't speak.

 

"We're gonna proceed, please tell Sam and Bucky to reunite a few man. We're doing it today."

 

-

 

It was midnight —by the look of the sky outside the window— when a loud knock echoed inside the walls, he could hear slight murmurs accompanying as Tony blinked sleepily and sat up slowly, he noticed Peter in the other bed across him, he was already awake, tired eyes staring back at him confusedly when another knock sounded again, this time firmer; the boy frowned and was about to stand up, but Tony placed a hand on his shoulder and shushed him quietly.

 

"Tony—"

 

"It's probably nothing. Don't worry," He patted his lower back as the kid laid down again, eyes still looking uneasy. 

 

He didn't even care to put on a jacket, because it wasn't the first time that someone woke them up in the middle of the night. Sometimes it was one of Rogers' men or Rogers himself, just checking in every room that everything was ok; it was just a protocol when there was trouble, it happened at least once a week (Tony learned) mostly when there were weird noises in a room —like that time that in the room down the hallway, a woman had a severe mental breakdown and woke up screaming, Steve asked everyone in the hallway what the fucked happened— or it was too cold. It was a good cause, Tony thinks, that they actually care about the residents, but he couldn't help and frown when he realized that this was the second time in the week that a knock wakes him up in the middle of the night.

 

When he opened the door, Stark actually fought to raise his eyebrows in surprise and sigh in frustration. Steve was there, hands gripping the front of his belt as he eyed him carefully.

 

"Stark," He greeted, voice coming out strained.

 

Stark frowned as he took in the other man's appearance, his blue eyes seem colder and there was this deep frown on his forehead; something that sent an uneasy feeling down the pit of Tony's stomach, but he nodded once and crossed his arms, "Rogers."

 

"Sorry to bother you at this hour, but a light generator just broke down by the gate," Steve sighed, eyes flicking behind Tony as if trying to catch something, "And as you know, you're the only one who knows that stuff here."

 

Tony nodded and sigh, hand rubbing his forehead slightly, "Let me get dress." 

 

Steve patted his shoulder, "Thanks, man. I'll wait for you outside the building."

 

He closed the door behind him, scratching in between his eyebrows out of frustration as he walked around the room and tried to find his jacket in the dark; suddenly the night lamp turned on and he caught the brown eyes stared at him for a moment, Peter was leaning on an elbow as he rubbed his eyes with one hand lazily.

 

"What's going on?" The boy asked groggily after sighing and laying back down.

 

"I have to leave for a bit," Tony mumbled as he shrugged on his jacket and walked towards Peter's bed, "I'll be back."

 

"Why are you leaving?" Peter's eyes were halfclosed and he reached an arm up to the other.

 

"Rogers needs me," The older man sat down in the edge of the bed, leaning down when Peter's eyes hugged his shoulders, he repeated, "I'll be back. It won't take long."

 

Tony lowered his head and kissed the boy's forehead then his nose as he grabbed the thick blanket and wrapped Peter tightly up to his chin, he brushed the messy curls back and was about to stand up, but the other held him down.

 

"Be here by the morning?" The boy asked softly and Stark's lips twitched up, leaning down again to kiss his forehead longingly.

 

"Go to sleep, baby. I'll be here when you wake up."

 

Tony watched him turn his back to him and sigh tiredly as he closed his eyes again, snuggling in the mattress tiredly. He patted his back one last time and started heading towards the door to put on his shoes.

 

It was really quiet when he was in the hallway, he couldn't even hear the wind blowing against the bricks as his jacket brushed together, filling the silence —it was _oddly_  quiet, there would always be any sound as minimal as it was, like people murmuring, couples arguing, babies crying and people having sex next or across door, waking Tony up and having Peter giggling loudly by his side.

 

But tonight, there was nothing.

 

Tony tried to hear something, the only thing that he caught was a lady entering his room and closing the door as soon as he saw him, but he shrugged it off when he noticed the wide window that was in the end of the hallway, standing tall, delivering a few natural lights of the moon and a few lamps from outside. 

 

Still silence.

 

He approached, leaned in curiously, feeling the cold close to his skin as he squinted his eyes and tried to see through the darkness. The front of the building was the view, he saw a few cars and snow, then he saw Rogers, arms crossed and talking to Sam.  _What the fuck—_

 

His breath hitched, his mind run and his heart hammered loudly, almost filling the silence as he finally saw in the darkness and he backed away from the window slowly, his frown deepened and he panted confusedly.

 

Tony saw shortly at Rogers, raising a hand and welcoming someone, he saw them leaning in a car lazily, there were at least nine men, tall and strong, gripping fucking large guns in their hands, listening to whatever Rogers was saying; they stood by the entrance of the building, as if expecting, as if waiting, as if they were waiting for someone,  _for_  Tony—

 

" _Fuck_ ," He said breathlessly, standing dumbfounded by the window, backing away, almost with fear as his face scrunched and he started to hyperventilate unconsciously. 

 

There wasn't any reason for Rogers to have fucking armed man waiting for him to go an fix a light generator... right? —this wasn't his fucking paranoia and overthinking, because maybe he had let his guard down in The Assemble, but there wasn't _any_  way the he could miss this and think the best of it.

 

He had seen Rogers expressions earlier, he was always that harsh and stiff, but he never once had stared at Tony with hidden hatred in his eyes; Tony didn't miss that either, but decided it was the late hour and tiredness, but,  _no_ , he now has an answer by what he saw outside the window.

 

He didn't have time to think or create an excuse, to say ' _everything's_   _alright'_ because it fucking wasn't, he didn't know the cause or the reason, he didn't know if they found out about _them_ or if someone told lies.

 

But, he knew that they didn't want him to fix the generator.

 

Tony rubbed his face and slapped it once before going back down the hallway; he run, feeling like the end of the hall was making itself longer on purpose, he felt like fainting and dying, but his senses screamed when he opened the door to his room and saw Peter asleep, breathing in calmly, looking small and harmless.

 

And, he knew by then, that he'll do _everything_  to protect Peter.

 

"Kid," He called loudly, but didn't scream, afraid of who could hear as he stood by the boy's bed and shook his body hastily, "Wake up.  _Now_." 

 

Peter sniffed and jerked away, but he sighed when he saw Tony and relaxed the hold on his wrist, "You finished alre—"

 

"Get dressed. Quickly," Tony pulled the covers away from his body and walked across the room to collect their few things and a backpack.

 

"Tony—"

 

"Now, Peter!"

 

"Tony," Peter called, voice trembling with fear as he sat down, "What's going on?"

 

"Get dressed and help me," He said firmly, pointing at Peter and throwing another backpack to the bed.

 

"What the fuck's going on—"

 

Stark cut off the boy by stomping towards him, he stood by the boy and gripped strongly the side of his jaw, ignoring the guilt when Peter gasped and tensed up, his eyes becoming wet as he eyed the man with terror.

 

" _Tony?_ "

 

His grip loosened the and Tony's features softened when a tear slipped down, "Baby —Peter, get dressed and pack just the _necessary_  things, alright?"

 

"But, why?" The boy's voice sounded broken and small as he sniffed.

 

"They know," He whispered, unsure and afraid, watching Peter's mouth parted and another tear shredded down.

 

" _No_..."

 

"They know."

 

"How—"

 

"Peter," He held the sides of the other's face tenderly, making him stare with wet wide eyes, "There's no time to talk. The only thing I know it's that they're fucking armed and waiting so we gotta hurry up before they come looking for  _me_."

 

The boy breathed in and nodded shakily, pushing himself out of the bed to start and started helping Tony, his actions and movements were dumb and scared, he was quickly filling his backpack with the stuff the Tony was handing him as unstoppable tears fell down his flushed cheeks, everytime he would wipe them away roughly as if not wanting for Tony to see them.

 

God —Tony was fucking afraid and shaking uncontrollably, dropping a few times things and bumping with the other stupidly, but, his expressions maintained harsh and stiff, wanting to deliver some sense of confidence, to try and let himself being seen as the same strong and crazy man who was outside in the road, the man that nothing apparently scared him and was cold as the freezing ice in the trees, he wanted to believe that he was still that man, just for the mere reason of making the kid feel safe and less afraid.

 

Because, no matter what, Peter kept looking at him with hopeful eyes and waiting to be told what to do.

 

The hallway seemed darker and more quiet as he closed the door softly and held Peter's hand tightly to lead the way, he kept looking behind them, searching for danger as they walked to the back door of the building, the one that went directly to the big fence circling the whole are and the wood.

 

He had a whole plan, it was rushed, but it was certain —the back door was always unlocked because nobody use it and the fence wasn't that tall, they could easily climb it, he didn't care about the fact that behind it there was an enormous forest, filled with winter animales, cold and _just_  danger and harm, but... even that seemed good in the current situation. Tony was willing to go on the road again, to remember the struggle of finding shelter and food, to remember the freezing nights that got them preferring to die than to feel cold one more time, he was willing to that; just for the exchange of freedom and having Peter by his side.

 

The stairs were long, eternal and sad, but it was soon forgotten when the silence was filled, they could hear Roger's men entering the building, running with raised voices. He could recognize Sam's voice ordering around and Tony frowned when he didn't hear Steve, but he accelerated his steps, pulling at the boy. The heavy boots were echoing as Peter looked up at him, fear and preoccupation were in his eyes, he gripped tighter his hand as he spoke.

 

"They're here, Tony," The boy whispered nervously, head flicking at everyway, "Tony—"

 

"We're almost there," Tony said breathlessly, hand going to grip his gun on his belt, the one that was forgotten under the bed, but Peter pulled it out earlier and handed to him.

 

"They're gonna get us—"

 

"Shh, look," He whispered and stopped abruptly, startling the boy, but Tony placed his hands on his shoulders, squeezing through the thick jacket as widened brown eyes stared back at him, he cleared his throat, "There's the door. Look at it."

 

Peter did, eyeing shortly the door a few meters away before looking at Tony again, his mouth opened to speak but he interrupted.

 

"Peter," His voice trembled hurtfully, he clenched his eyes shut and lowered his head, "Whatever happens out there—" He sighed and looked up, his own wet eyes resembled the other's, "I need you to run away if they catch me—"

 

"No!" The boy shook his head rapidly hands, body colliding unexpectedly with Tony's as he hugged him strongly, small hands gripping the back of his jacket as his face drowned in his chest; Tony embraced his shoulders, his nostrils widened over and over as he fought the sorrow and avoid to cry. His heart broke when Peter's voice sounded, "I can't do it—"

 

"I need _you_ to run away if they catch me," He repeated himself more firmly and pulled away to look at his eyes, "I need you to fight for yourself, alright? —don't look back, just run. We'll be _fine_. You can do it, Peter."

 

Stark didn't wait for a response as he stared walking towards the door, pulling at the boy by his arm, feeling the close steps above their heads as they gave eachother a last look, filled with uncertainty and fear, they blinked and adjusted the backpacks. He heard the boy took a deep breath in before Tony pushed the door opened, letting the coldness in, thr air hit their faces, ruffling their hair and making them shiver. 

 

It was lonely and dark outside, the air blew harshly and it whistled calmly. They stepped out slowly, looking at their sides and gripping eachother's hands unconsciously; there was only a light in the corner as their boots touched the snow. The area was still soundless and calm, making Tony react and walk quickly towards the fence, his heart hammered uncontrollably as they almost run; the fence was close,  _so_ close, he could already see the tall trees and was already plannings to try and find a forgotten house outside to survive the cold, he was already planning to hold the kid close after it was over and let him fall asleep against his chest.

 

But, as they reached it, he heard Peter's intake of breath and loud scream, "Tony!" 

 

He was about to turn around, but suddenly he felt coldness on his face and something loud echoed, like metal or plastic, he wasn't sure as pain shoot angrily towards his forehead and his eyes closed for a distant, he didn't know how but he fell, he fell deeply into the snow and he groaned, looking up. His blood went cold and he panted in defeat. 

 

Peter seemed terrified as he backed away slightly, eyeing and sniffing brokenly. 

 

Steve was there, holding his gun, aiming to Tony, he was breathing with difficulty too, like he had been running; blue eyes stared at Tony hurtfully. Something warm run down his face and he realized it was blood as he opened his mouth, but nothing came. He laid there petrified, scare and speechless as Rogers lowered his gun and body, he spoke firmly, almost darkly, sending tremor through Tony's skin.

 

"What are you running from, Tony?"

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, Tony realized that he has being dreaming with open eyes in a dark, cold room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't want this to end because honestly this has been the work that I've enjoyed writing and working on so far. 
> 
> Btw, holy shit sorry for this long ass chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to all my dear friends who liked it and commented or just read this work:) 
> 
> If you see more mistakes than usual. I'm sorry, ao3 was being a bitch.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this last chapter!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> “When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand on me, saying, “Fear not, I am the first and the last,and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.”
> 
>                      —Revelation 1:17-18
> 
>  
> 
> * * *
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

" _What are you running from, Tony_?"

 

The words mixed with the wind blowing, equally cold and insignificant, making his skin crawl and eyes burn, he could feel the snow wetting his clothes and the air was making the blood on his forehead freeze instantly; his head was pounding and he held both sides of his face as a groaned left his mouth involuntarily.

 

It was all hazy and blurry, he couldn't stand up, he didn't _want_  to —Steve was there, looking and holding a gun intimidatingly, he could ignore that when suddenly Peter knelt beside him, pulling one of Tony's hands away from his face and gripping it tightly, in fear and nervousness, his eyes focused and found the brown eyes gazing at his wound.

 

"Peter—" 

 

The both looked up and saw Rogers placing a hand in his shoulder, but the kid quickly slapped it away, sending the other a stare that Tony has never seen in him, it was dangerous and desperate as his other hand held Tony's head, slim, trembling fingers sliding through the hair.

 

"Peter—" The blond man repeated but was cut off again.

 

"Get away from us," Peter hissed, bottom quavering.

 

Stark breathed out and tried to sit up but Rogers pushed him down with his boot unexpectedly, sending him to the ground harshly again and closing his eyes at the pain.

 

"I said get away from us!" The boy yelled, his body was almost hovering over Tony's, protecting and shielding, "Mr. Rogers, _don't_. Please."

 

Finally, Tony could find words as his throat cleared, he spoke from below, "Steve — _Listen_ , this is nonsense. You can't hold us back and you won't—"

 

"Indeed, this is nonsense," Steve nodded and said calmly, "You are nonsense. What _you_  did to your son is nonsense."

 

He closed his eyes, gripping Peter's hands, "He's not my—"

 

Something interrupted him, loud voices and yells filled the darkness. It was Steve men, running towards them, armed and dangerous; Tony could finally sat up and he saw Steve's wife too, walking slowly and nodding towards them. 

 

He felt he couldn't breath when Peter looked back at him with those scared, wide eyes and wet face, his mouth parted as he was going to say something but no words came out; Tony avoid the urge to lift a hand and rub his cheek, whisper that everything was going to be alright. But he was no liar. 

 

Rogers sighed and straightened up, his hands went behind his back as he turned to his men, he stood firmly, like a soldier, "Hold him up."

 

"No!" The boy screeched, arms hugging him tightly, body clinging to him as Tony saw with panic Sam and the other guy that he had seen a few time, Bucky; walking towards them precisely. He gripped the back of Peter's jacket amd held him close, fearing of the worst.

 

"Hey—" Tony tried to pull away and hold the boy, but Bucky grabbed Peter's arms and tried to carry him away, failing when Peter kept pushing and kicking, making his way back to him as Tony tried to stand up but Sam was holding him down.

 

A peculiar scream made them all turn around as Peter finally let go, arms flying back to grip the hand on his hair pulling and hurting, making Tony grumble and fight against the grip on his arms, wanting nothing more to stand up and punch Steve's friend and stop Peter from crying, but he couldn't move, because Sam just kicked his stomach and he bend over, eyesight becoming blurry as Peter cried loudly.

 

"Hey, hey!" Rogers raised a hand, looking stern, "Be careful with the kid."

 

"Don't fucking touch him," Tony spat, still struggling against the other man as he finally could stood straight.

 

Steve gave him an intense glare before walking towards him, he looked furious and crazed, his jaw was clenched and he was almost fuming as he stood before him and pulled him close by harshly gripping the front of his jacket, he narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice; just Stark and Sam could hear.

 

" _Don't touch him?_ " The blond man quoted and leaned his face closer, eyeing Tony, "That's controversial coming from you."

 

And before he could respond, Steve had back away a little and raise his arm quickly, making him flinch when seconds later a strong punch was delivered to his jaw, snapping his head to the side and making him immediately spit blood.

 

"Tony!" The young boy hustled in Bucky's arms, a look of terror was on his face but he didn't get away.

 

Roger's head turned to the boy, frowning and panting before looking at Tony too, "You make him call you 'Tony'? — _huh?_ ," He tilded his head, nodding towards Sam like a secret language.

 

Wilson nodded back and gripped Tony's hair, making him look up, right into the blue eyes, he spat blood and saliva again, just for the  mere despise of looking at Steve who was gazing at him with evident power. 

 

Tony was hurting, shaking and bile was rising up his throat, but he kept a straight face, fearing as his eyes looked at Peter, crying softly and being restrained, his knees were wobbling weakly as Bucky keep holding him back with a tight grip on his arms.

 

Roger's voice sounded again, this time more loudly, "Answer me,  _Tony_."

 

He only clenched his jaw and his nostrils widened before he turned his head when the blond man lifted his fist to punch him again; it collided in his cheek ad he winced, pushing against the arms holding him and he faintly heard Peter sorrowing.

 

"Steve—" Tony started before groaning when his hair was being pulled again, "Let me explain—"

 

"Bastard," Steve muttered, lowering his head to look into Tony's eyes, "Why does he called you by your name?"

 

Stark straightened, "He's not my son. We're just — he is _not_  my son, Rogers. You have to listen to—"

 

The blond man scoffed and punched him again, making him fall back and away from Sam's arms; the snow painted red when more blood run down his lip and nose. Tony panted, hands squeezing the snow as someone —fuck, he didn't know who by then— kicked him on his sides twice.

 

"No excuses," Steve said, "You did what you did."

 

"Mr. Rogers, please!" Peter yelled, kicking Bucky and making him let go of him, he run towards them before he could catch him. He was about to kneel down, but Steve held him before he could reach Tony, carrying him effortlessly and turning around with Peter fidgeting and elbowing him.

 

"It's ok — _kid,_ it's ok," Steve mumbled, struggling with keeping the boy from falling as he tried to climb off of him. He raised his voice and and looked at his wife, "Natasha, take him back to our building. If anyone ask what's going on. _Nothing's_  going on."

 

"Tony!" The boy's voice broke at the end and he started punching the blond man slightly when Natasha stood in front of him and held his arms, pulling him softly; and apologetic look was on her face and the green eyes seemed conflicted.

 

"Steve, don't fucking take him anywhere," Stark said in strained voice, limbs shaking, but the pain was longer gone and replaced by adrenaline, "Don't you—"

 

"Help her," The blond ignored him and pointed at Bucky who nodded and followed Natasha.

 

Peter was pulled away, hehwas sobbing weakly, his protests were unheard as his hear keep turning back to see Tony, he stared at him with tearful eyes, almost begging as he raised and arm and extended his hand, like he was expecting that Tony would take it and walk away together —his own chest clenched when he saw slowly how Peter was being taken away from him, how he was crying and punching; that afflictive expression and trembling lips made him look away.

 

Because, not even in the rotten camp where Tony first saw him, Peter didn't have an expression like that on his face, scared and hopeless —and he was doing _nothing_  to fix it. 

 

" _Please_."

 

Tony didn't recognize his own voice, it was broken and quiet, he didn't beg but he _will_  now. His eyes were wet but he wasn't crying, he couldn't fucking cry. Not when the ambiguity and uncertainty was bigger, the doubt and the dismay of not knowing where Peter was or if he was alright.

 

"Don't hurt him."

 

He didn't care about himself or if he dies, but he was fearing the worst because he knew that Peter would be alone and unprotected, like in the first camp. Tony was fearing the fact that he _couldn't_  be there to keep him safe and worry —what would Peter do without him but cry and sorrow?

 

"We're not gonna hurt him, Tony. You know?" Steve said as he took off his leather gloves that impacted on his skin, "He's in good hands."

 

"You have to listen to me," Stark said as he watched the other few man getting closer, looking imposing with the guns and knifes.

 

"No. You will listen to me," The blond man mumbled, "We — as residents of this place— want the best for our new incomers, we want to keep them safe. Like we did with you both, Tony and I trusted you, I trusted that you were a good man. I _thought_  that you were a good man." 

 

"Steve—" He couldn't finish because he fell on his knees again when the other punched him on his stomach, making him gasp for air as Sam held him down.

 

"I thought that you were a good man," Rogers repeated and nodded, he knelt down unhurriedly and faced him, " _Tony_."

 

He looked up, jaw clenching and eyes twitching in frustration.

 

" _Why_  did you do that?" Steve asked lowly, "To your son?"

 

"He _is_   _not_  my son, Rogers," Tony raised his voice, making a few heads turn around surprised, "You—"

 

"It's too late to explain yourself."

 

"You don't understand, Rogers," He shook his head.

 

"You're right. I _don't_  understand," Steve said, "I don't want to understand. Whatever happened, happened. It's a shame because your boy it's gonna be left scarred all his life—"

 

Stark scoffed, shaking his head again and then chuckling openly, almost laughing, ignoring the pain on his arms as Sam held him tighter. He was numb on pain, internally and externally, he couldn't think, not when Peter wasn't by his side and he was starting to enter a phase that everything seemed surreal and that all of this was just a _cruel_  dream. But it wasn't, because the blood was too thick and red and the cold was present. The only place that he never was cold was on his dreams and with Peter; he avoided a sob to come out of his mouth in order to stay firm and strong.

 

The blond man sighed abruptly and punched the side of his face, fist connecting carelessly and swiftly, makin Tony see blurry as he blinked rapidly, "What's so funny, Stark?"

 

He didn't answered because he saw the other's intentions and he got hurt again, more blood spitting out of his mouth.

 

Steve pulled him by his collar, standing nose to nose and eyes to eyes, he spoke darkly, "The rotten and infected world has made his way into you —The _end_ of the world is already here and it will be for you, Tony. What you did won't go unpunished. You're a sick, degenerate man who will not see tomorrow. Mark my words."

 

Tony spat unconcernedly, infront of Steve, a cold, emotionless expression was on his face, his brown eyes were distant and his body stopped struggling. They stared at eachother for a moment, rage and madness behind, before he cleared his throat and his voice came out shaking, "You can get rid of me. _Kill_  me. Fucking torture me with knifes until I bleed to death —But, for the love of God, don't hurt Peter."

 

Rogers looked away, his jaw clenched tightly, "He has been my concern since you both arrive here. Because I knew what the road did to you _both —_ " He stopped to turn around, looking at the men behind them, he lowered his voice as he talked again, "I don't care if he's not your son. I don't. But, we have rules here, we _try_  to be a normal civilization and what you did is a felony—"

 

He sighed, his voice quieting dowb even more, the shame and humiliation of being heard was present as he kept looking at Steve intensively, "I said he was was my son just so you could take us, in exchange of safety and shelter. I met him outside and he sticked with me.  _We_ sticked together—"

 

"Whether he's your son or not. The abuse of a child is a felony —a crime, even if such a thing exist anymore— and you will pay. _I_ will make sure that you pay, Tony. There's not going back," Steve pointed at him, with an angry finger and red face. Suddenly he stood up, he stayed staring at the ground for a moment, before turning around slowly, hands on his hips and head held high.

 

"What's next, boss?" Sam asked from above, nodding at Stark.

 

"Steve, let me explain correctly," Tony started, sounding almost desperate.

 

"Gentlemen," The blond man called, voice echoing in the space, he looked at the armed waiting, "Fortunately, we didn't required external help, but I appreciate you coming. You're dismissed for tonight —and, please, may this situation go unspoken."

 

Tony watched with agitation the men nodding and starting to walk off, talking lowly and cursing at the cold. They disappeared around a corner and for a reason, the atmosphere evidently became denser and heavier, with the three man standing there. He felt defeated and weak, there wasn't a way out and he couldn't stop thinking where Peter was.

 

"Boss?" 

 

"Where is Peter?" Stark muttered, feet shifting in the snow.

 

Rogers looked at them, then eyed Tony slowly before nodding hesitantly,  speaking to Sam, "Take him to the cloistered rooms —I'll decide how to proceed by the morning. We all need to talk."

 

Tony fumed angrily and wiggling in the hands holding him, a fake sense of hope of scaping. He grumbled too when they were talking about him as if he wasn't there, as if he was a trapped animal, waiting to be killed and skinned. The conjecture was causing him to want to throw up and kick away, until he's free to scape, but he couldn't move because finally the adrenaline was fading away and the pain was shooting up his veins roughly.

 

He breathed in and repeated his question, this time more precisely and loud, " _Where_  is Peter?"

 

Rogers ignored again, starting to walk away and he only turned his head to speak firmly, "Take him now, Sam."

 

Tony could only close his eyes as he was directed and pushed with a steady grip towards the darkness and cold.

 

He finally let a tear fall from his eyes and a lump formed in his throat.

 

-

 

Tony was watching the careful movements of the boy before him. They were in a - _their-_ room. It was serene and warm, the grey sky reflected brightly trough the window, illuminating the shadows and dimness. 

 

He keep taking breaths, calm and deep, he was admiring and loving —Peter was there, bare pale skin turning red by Tony's fingers, soft moans were coming out of thin, swollen lips. He was moving slowly, with lust as he kept lowering his head to kiss Tony, tender and inexperienced. 

 

He was in heaven, content and gratified as the boy kept stimulating himself on Tony's cock, hips moving shakily, searching and begging as his hand stroked himself; one hand was placed beside his head and on the pillow, Tony would sometimes turned his face and peck the inside of his wrist fondly when Peter sighed erotically.

 

His own hands brushed the skin of the boy's thighs, making shivers appear. He couldn't contain turning them around, with Peter's back against the bed, because the kid kept smiling sweetly down at him and caressing the side of his face.

 

They finished, it was slow and quiet, holding Peter closed to him, feeling him shake slightly, legs becoming tight against Tony hips as he kissed the pale neck and ear.

 

It was different, because they had time, they could stay in the room and laid there in the bed as long as they want with hot breaths and rising chest. Nobody was interrupting them, it reminded him when they used to hide in an old house outside and they would lay in a dusty bed, just after Tony made Peter come quickly with just his hand and he let him lay against him, breathing against his neck and gripping Tony's hand.

 

Like now, Peter was ontop of his, naked legs on either side of his body, face close to his and brown eyes eyeing his own, they were soft and wet, leaving the pleasure behind and welcoming tiredness. Tony held him strong, fingertips dancing in the small of his back; he could feel the sweat of the boy's flesh against his, sticking together, but Tony didn't care because he watched Peter leaned down, small tongue darting out and licking his parted lips sensually, leaving Tony breathless.

 

Peter always did that after sex, lick several times his lips, not inside his mouth, just wetting the outside and corners, sometimes sucking his bottom lip and giggling at Tony's fond eye roll at the playfulness and immaturity of the boy's actions. He would just close his eyes and let Peter play with his mouth until it was left red and swollen with all the biting and licking, he tasted sweet like chocolate and he found himself loving every single second of it.

 

"Suck my tongue," Peter whispered against him, grinning widely and sticking his tongue out.

 

He chuckled and rubbed his own face with one hand, "You're weird, kid."

 

"Come on," The boy licked flatly his chin and lips, "I like it."

 

Tony stared at him with sleepy, halfclosed eyes and slowly held Peter's cheeks, thumbs caressing the soft skin as he opened his mouth and flicked his own tongue against the other's, licking the tip and he smiled when Peter stuck it out even more, he sucked it like he knew Peter licked it, it was small for his mouth and he tasted like always as the boy sighed happily and started kissing him distractedly.

 

"Can we do it again?" Peter mumbled, pulling away and nipping blithely his jaw.

 

He scoffed and pulled the covers over them, the cold was starting to appear again once they calmed down, "I'm too old for another go."

 

"Please?"

 

"Let's sleep first," Tony mumbled.

 

"I want to do it again," The boy's fingers tried to open his eyelids, but Tony turned his face and laughed.

 

"Then do it to yourself," He said tiredly, cracking an eye open and catching the other rolling his eyes, "I need to sleep." 

 

"Fine," Peter sighed and sat down properly ontop of him, a hand rested in Tony's chest and the other started to stroked himself right away, grinding again him and smiling down at him cheekily.

 

"Brat," Tony groaned frustratedly before quickly spinning them around and kissing the boy stupidly.

 

The last thing he heard was the boy giggle echoing loud under the covers.

 

And, Tony realized that he has being dreaming with open eyes in a dark, cold room.

 

A sweet, delightful dream.

 

Tony groaned when he shifted his body and felt his ribs cracked and a pain shot up his back; he has being leaning his back in the dirty wall, he couldn't be able to lay down because his middle was numb and his arms hurt. He panted and for the first time looked down to raise his shirt slightly; with gritted teeth he sigh at the sight of the purple and black in his stomach and sides, he was breathing slowly when a swelling was visible on his ribs. It was a fact that it was broken. 

 

He pulled down his shirt with clenched eyes and a rapid heartbeat was on his chest.

 

Tony was shivering and he wanted to stand up to shut the open window letting in all the cold air, but he wasn't able. He only pulled his jacket tighter around him and blew inside his hands, he tried to wipe away the blood on his face but it was already dry and his busted lip hurt to much to even touch it.

 

His head pounded and his body was weak.

 

He didn't know it was because of the beating or maybe it was the whole time that he was there, leaning in the snow and damping his clothes.

 

They ~~threw~~  put him in this small room, it didn't even a have a bed or a fucking blanket, there was only this old desk wich he was sure that if he touched it with a fingertip it will crumble down. The door that was facing him was resistant because he heard the heavy lock being turned by Sam. He knew there wasn't scaping, not even by the window because only his head could fit in there.

 

This what Steve called the ' _cloistered_   _room' —_ it's a fucking DIY jail, because it was a building far apart from the others and there were at least 8 room like the one he was in now and he didn't missed the sound of someone knocking and begging for forgiveness in one of the rooms across the hall.

 

Tony felt like he has being here all night, but it just keep getting darker outside and the sun wasn't showing, maybe it hasn't passed more than an hour, it felt timeless and eternal.

 

He has been drifting off to sleep but was awaken by imaginary steps and imaginary punches to his body, he woke up gasping and covering his face as if expecting a fist, but al he saw was bricks and darkness. There was only one time that he woke up calmly and hopeful, when he thought that heard Peter's voice, calling his name sweetly and encouraging him to keep going, but when he opened his eyes he saw nothing and listened to the wind blowing lowly.

 

That's why he stared at a wall and his mind drift off, he disconnected from the current situation and _remembered —_ Peter's touches and kisses had felt so real in his vivid memories that when he snapped out of it he felt disconcerted at a strange noise and realized that it was his sobs and cries, he sorrowed loudly inside the room, covering his face with his hands pressed tightly.

 

He was shaking and shuddering at the thought of not seeing Peter again.

 

And, he would _kill_  to know where he was right now.

 

He could only imagine achingly the boy's lost gaze and wet cheeks. Just in the same state like he was currently.

 

People — either Bucky, Sam or Steve — had come to check on him a few times during the night and Tony had pretend to be asleep or,  _hell_ , dead; for the mere reason of being left alone. He knew they were gonna probably get rid of him because he heard distantly Sam asking Bucky how Steve was going to do _it_. Kill _him_. And, fuck, he closed his eyes, trying to ignore, because he didn't care about himself, he only care that Peter was going to be left alone with a bunch of strangers. Tony will leave like his aunt and leave him in a camp to be mistreated and hurt again. The story repeating itself —And, Tony wasn't sure if Peter could get through with it this time.

 

He knew that they would get caught someday, but he didn't really thought about the consequences.

 

-

 

At some point (he didn't know if he was asleep or awake or if it was real of fake) but he heard a noise, it was faint and distant, he knew that it was probably one of Steve's men checking on him —as if he could scape— and his thoughts were confirmed when the lock on his door started to being fumbled with. He frowned when it didn't open right away because the person behind it seemed to be struggling when he heard the keys falling down onto the floor and the shadows of feet moving constantly by the crack under the door.

 

He felt like minutes passed until the door opened and he closed his eyes instantly, body going lack and quiet. 

 

Tony heard careful steps and shifting; he was internally shaking slightly in fear when he didn't want see what was going to happen. He was expecting the worse, when then a voice echoed silently in the four walls and his breath hitched as his lips trembled.

 

" _T-tony?_ " 

 

He opened his eyes and spread his mouth when he saw who it was, no sound came, only a harsh breath was let out. 

 

Another _dream_.

 

Tony shook his head rapidly and muttered crazily, "You're not real, you're not real —Go away. You're not real."

 

"Tony?" The voice said, "What are you talk— I'm real. I swear. Look at  _me_."

 

The man kept shaking his head, eyes closing and body curling together; he gasped and yelled brokenly when he felt a body colliding with his own, making his back hit the wall harshly. He raised his arms and tried to punch and kick at the thread, but a sudden smell and whimper made him widen his eyes and look down.

 

"What—" He cut himself off.

 

 _Peter_.

 

It wasn't real. It _couldn't_  be real. How could it be? 

 

"I found you. You're ok. You're _alive_ ," The boy hugged him tightly, crying softly against his neck, "I thought you were death, Tony."

 

The man pulled away, eyes blinking at the light coming from outside the door and the he looked next to him with a blurry sight —Peter was there, half of his face shadowed by the darkness, his cheeks were red and wet like his eyes; his hands were gripping Tony's jacket and he was kneeling beside him. 

 

He looked scared and impatiente.

 

Tony breathed in shakily and he raised a weak hand to touch the soft skin of the boy's face —he expected that the image was going to disappear as soon as he touched it and that he was going to be left alone again with one more of his sweet dreams, but when his hand collided with cold flesh, he sighed and pulled at his face to bring their foreheads together.

 

"Please tell me you're real. _Please_  tell me that it's not a dream," He whispered confusedly and closed his eyes, "Please—"

 

"I'm here," The other nodded against him, small hands holding Tony's wrist and caressing it, "I'm really here, Tony."

 

" _Peter_." 

 

He panted and kissed his lips without thinking, desperately and hurtfully, wanting to keep confirming that it was really happening and he started sobbing and sniffing quietly when the boy kissed back with the same desperation and held him close.

 

"What are you doing here? How did—" Tony started to ramble but was stopped by a hush and a tender, soft kiss on his lips, "Are you ok?"

 

Peter nodded, "I'm fine."

 

"Did they hurt you? — Did they _touched_  you?" He started to raise his voice and straighten up, but he winced and a pair of hands held him back.

 

" _Shh —_ They didn't hurt me. They didn't do anything but keep me from seeing you," The boy looked at the wounds in his face and he gave a sad frown and his bottom lip quivered, "What have they done to you, Tony?"

 

"I have took worse, kid," He tried to smile, but resisted when his lip protested, "Where is Rogers? How did you get here? What—"

 

"We don't have time," Peter said and looked at him in the eye, "We have to go."

 

"Peter—" The man called when Peter started to stand up, "Tell me what's going on."

 

He stared at Tony for a few seconds before breaking down crying and hugging his neck tightly, he fell on his lap and Tony ignored the pain in his body —because, he had Peter now with him, close and real. He rubbed the soft hair and listened to the whimpers and wet sighs sounding next his ear before Peter straightened up and looked at him again with swollen eyes, as if he has been crying all night.

 

"I thought you were dead, Tony," The kid rubbed his cheeks and sniffed, "I thought—"

 

"I'm here," He said and held the other's chin softly, "Look at me. You're here and I'm here. I just wanna know _how_  you are here."

 

"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner — sorry that i couldn't save you _that_  same night. But, I didn't know what to do until this morning—"

 

"Wait—" Tont frowned and his body went cold, he looked away with a confused expression and looked at the window, seeing still darkness, "That night?"

 

Peter nodded, "They took me to Steve and Natasha's apartment and they wouldn't let me leave — they think that I'm still there — but I sneaked out in the middle of the night.  _Right now_. I caught Steve speaking to Bucky yesterday about where you were and what they were gonna do to you. I stole the keys while they were sleeping," He sniffed weakly, "It took me a while to find this building. That's why we have to hurry—"

 

"Kid—"

 

"I thought that you were dead until yesterday because they wouldn't tell me shit and I was so mad. I punched Steve a lot of times and he just let me and hugged me and I _fucking_  hate him, Tony — _Tony_?"

 

He watched the concerned expression in the boy's face and he didn't realize that he was hyperventilating and holding his own chest when Peter leaned down and gripped both said of his face, telling him something, but it sounded distant and underwater to Tony; his sight was blurring too and he felt like fainting and sleeping, but a sudden slap on his cheek made him widen his eyes and gasp.

 

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered, rubbing his cheek tenderly, "You were entering one of your anxiety attacks again, but we're gonna be fine now—"

 

"Wilson brought me here a few hours ago," Tony blurted out, "Rogers beat me up a few hours ago. I saw _you_  being taken away from me a few hours ago. What the _fuck_  it's going on, Peter?"

 

The boy's eyes changed from confused to knowing, he leaned down and pecked his lips longingly before looking at him, "It has been four days, Tony."

 

He frowned and shook his head and pointed at the window in the other wall, " _Kid_ , I haven't seen the fucking sun come out but a dark sky and that window has been letting in all this damn cold."

 

Peter twisted his head and looked behind him and then looked at him again with wide eyes, he mumbled sadly, "There isn't a window there. It's so hot in here that you're sweating and burning, Tony."

 

The man let out a pained pant and turned his head around, looking at the wall and... watching its plain grey color, he looked at every wall and found the same color, not window or sky, just darkness and dirt; his chest clenched and he felt like hyperventilating again, but the other held his face high to look at him.

 

" _What_   _the_   _fuck_?" He mumbled quickly and repeatedly that sentence, getting weaker and shorter each time as Peter made Tony's face bury against his chest, he hugged his shoulders with on arm and the other held his head close to him, rocking them softly and shushing quietly.

 

"It's ok. It's ok," Peter whispered against his hair, "You're ok now."

 

"What's going on, Peter?" He sobbed and for the first time since everything started he felt _terrified_  of dying and the future —was he dead already?

 

"You're just confused. It's normal," The boy nodded and hugged him closer, "But—"

 

"It's been four days?" Tony pulled away and looked at the brown eyes before him, he didn't noticed that he was gripping tightly the boy's jacket and he let go of it.

 

Peter nodded again, he looked uncertain and his eyes started watering again, his voice shook weakly "T-they —I heard that they were going to keep you here until you were left dead."

 

Tony closed his eyes and threw his head back, rage filling his body.

 

"They were going to tell me that you scape, they  _are_ going to tell me today, in the morning, so we have to hurry before they come to check on you and before Steve go to my room and see that I'm not there," He pulled at the other's arms.

 

"You can't risk yourself," The man shook his head and didn't budge, "Go back, baby.  _Please_. It's for your own good—"

 

"Shut up—" Peter looked at him angrily and wiped away a tear roughly, "Don't say that. We're gonna be fine now. I found you. You found me, Tony. We always stick together, remember when you told me that, Tony?"

 

He looked down and nodded, almost passing unnoticed and then he felt a kiss being placed on his forehead.

 

"We're going to be like we were before. On the road, remember when we talked about missing the road and freedom?" The boy said shakily, in a wet voice.

 

Tony nodded again and kissed the hand on his cheek, "I do, baby."

 

"I want to be with you. _Always._ Even if it's outside and we die. But, I don't want you to leave me, Tony. I don't think I can —  _I_   _love_   _you_ ," Peter whispered, finally another tear was delivered and Tony caught it with his finger; his chest clenched and he closed his eyes for a second before straighting up and looking at the boy under the dimmed lights.

 

"Let's hurry then, baby."

 

-

 

It was difficult to get out of that room, he felt heavy and his bones were aching in pain. 

 

He was fucking freezing, but he noticed  _now_ , the closed spaces and felt his sweat dripping down his face, wich at some point when he was alone he thought that it was blood still falling.

 

He realized that he was cold because he was dying and that he kept imagining because of the lock down and darkness. 

 

Coldness, starvation and dementia was near to end his life, but Peter appeared.

 

Tony had trouble standing and he cried out when pain kept making hard him hard to breath, his ribs felt like they were digging into his lung and his face was numb and swollen. He kept doubling over and his knees wobbled until the boy made him hug his shoulders with one arm to help him walk.

 

He saw the way that Peter was struggling to half carry him, the arm around Tony's back was holding him strongly as he leaned into his body. He was limping and panting at each step and he noticed until now that he couldn't see right because his left eye was almost shut because of Steve's fist. 

 

Peter had a a big duffle bag wich he was carrying too; Tony demanded that he'll carry it but the boy refused and to distract him, he started telling Tony about what he put inside it, how he emptied the counter of the community's kitchen and how he stole clothes for both of them. 

 

He had actually lean down to kiss the boy's forehead with a smile as they walked quickly towards the exit —Peter had always been this bright, intelligent boy that did the same when they got out of the other camp and he made sure to tell him that if they could scape the other one, they could scape this one.

 

Tony raised his hand to cover his face as he winced and turned his head when Peter opened the exit door. Even the night light and a single tall lamp outside, was enough to turn him blind for a minute and a headache appeared instantly as Peter direct them away.

 

"I searched around and there is an unguarded gate not far from here," Peter whispered and looked everywhere with wide, scared eyes, "I digged in the snow and we can fit under the gate if we crawl."

 

The man nodded, gripping the boy's shoulder unconsciously as he looked around too, even the air made him jump and made his breath hitch. He could feel the cold wind against the sweat on his skin that was drying and he found himself enjoying it, because the cold that accompanied him in that insolated room made him shake and convulsionate from time to time, he felt like his skin was burning up and then freezing all over again, thinking that the 'window' was the guilty of it.

 

"Look, Tony," Peter pointed infront of them, "There it is. We're almost there."

 

Tony was about to speak, to congratulate the boy for his great thinking and mind, for saving him and not forgetting him; because they were so fucking close to the gate, he could see the shiny metal covered in snow, he was tasting the freedom —but, yet, a click made them stop dead on his tracks and freeze in fear.

 

"Stop right there." 

 

Peter's breath hitched, hands gripping his jacket and Tony closed his eyes when he recognized the voice.

 

"Drop the bag, kid.  _Now_."

 

Tony watched the boy did it, calmly placing it down.

 

"Turn around. Slow."

 

They obeyed too, the wind was moving in between them; Peter held his head low and Tony looked at the man infront of them holdin a gun, aiming dangerously at them with a cold expression and tensed body.

 

"Mr. Wilson—" Peter started but the other man cut him off quickly.

 

"Steve is not gonna be happy about this, kid," Sam shook his head and the gun, "He'll see _-finally-_  what a little rat you are like your father right there." 

 

"Sam, come on, man," Tony raised a hand, eyes pleading.

 

The other man turned to look at him and scoffed, he walked closer, gun getting closer, "Did you know that your boy here got on his knees for the guard to get the keys? — _or_ , what did he tell you, Mr. Stark?"

 

Tony looked down at Peter, he found him looking at him already with tears almost falling and just a horrified face —like a kid getting caught doing something bad— Tony couldn't even be mad, he was disappointed with _himself_ that he was the reason that Peter had to go and do that in order to get to Tony.

 

"That's right," Sam spoke and looked at the boy intently, "Clint came running right after he nut down your throat to confess what he did—"

 

Tony hissed and step closer, "Don't speak to him like that. I'm warning you."

 

"What are you gonna do?" The man scoffed and lowered his gun a bit.

 

Right then, he felt Peter's hand moving around his back, tapping him with _something_  Sam was to busy looking at Peter with hatred and saying something that neither both of then could recall as Tony reached quickly and almost sighed in relief when he came in contact with cold metal;  Peter was handing him a gun slowly, almost in fear. 

 

Tony gripped it tight with his hands and positioned correctly as his other hand squeezed the boy's shoulder in a try of comfort.

 

"— I'll need you both to come with me."

 

Tony sowed his arm without thinking and raised the gun sharply, his words sounded quiet and angry, he spoke inbetwein gritted teeth, "We can't do that, man."

 

The other man's breath hitched as he repositioned his gun; his expression was disconcerted and he looked quickly behind him as if hoping for someone to come out, he frowned and looked at Tony's hand and then at the boy, "Little bastard, you stole Steve's gun."

 

"Please let us go. You won't see us again. We will leave in peace, Mr. Wilson," Peter's voice trembled as he raised his hand.

 

There was only silence but their sharp breaths, suddenly a dog near barking loudly interrupted the silence and it made the three of them jumped and tensed when Sam fired the gun and Tony fired unconsciously a second later. Both guns echoed in the dark loudly and painfully, he felt Peter jerked in fear beside him and then he watched Sam's eyes staring at Tony blankly before falling backwards lifelessly. 

 

The gun of the man dropped to the snow and Peter gasped whe it started staining with red.

 

They couldn't think something else because moments after, yells and disturbance was heard as the residents started getting out of the building and he knew that guards were already running towards the sound.

 

"We gotta go," Tony said breathlessly, holding the boy's hand and looking back at the fense, "We won't make it. They'll catch us —"

 

" _Tony_."

 

He turned around at the shallow tone that the boy had, he stared at him and sa Peter looking down, he was clutching something against him stomach, he went cold and steady when Peter looked up with wide eyes and parted mouth, he pulled his hand away from himself, thick, dark blood was covering it, falling in fat drops down the white snow. His hand was shaking and Tony could finally see more blood breaching the material of his sweater.

 

"No..." Tony breathed out and held both sides of his head as he gave a step back, the gun felt hard against him and he searched for air when Peter's eyes looked up at him with hope an as if he could turn back time, "Baby—"

 

A sudden yelled from a far made them look away and a Tony shook his head and tried go talk properly, he got a hold of the boy's shoulders, avoiding to look down, "We can't make it to the gate. They're close —we'll hide until they're gone and then we can go, baby, alright?"

 

He didn't even gave him a chance to answer because he started pulling to walke was stopped when Peter fell down on his knees, arms hugging his own middle as he gasped in pain, "I can't, Tony."

 

Tony without thinking, leaned down, ignoring and _forgetting_ about his broken ribs and bruises because all he could see was the blood falling from the boy's hands and into the clear snow. He took a hold of his shoulders and the back of his legs; Peter let out the first desperate cry of pain as Tony picked him up.

 

"No!" Peter yelled, contorting in his arms, hands clutching his stomach, "Tony — _no!_ it hurts," He sobbed loudly and tears stained his cheeks, "Put me down. It hurts!"

 

The man took a breath in and run towards where they got out, it was the closer and hidden building; he winced and resist the urge to break down at Peter's sobs and pained cries, he was crying like a little kid, deep and unknown, sometimes running out of breath and gasping for it.

 

"We're here. We're here," He mumbled rapidly, pushing the door open with his shoulder and closing it again, the sound echoing loudly in the space as he searched for an unlocked room until he found one.

 

"Tony, it hurts!" Peter yelled just as he locked them in thw dark room, the only light was coming from a yellow light bulb that barely had light. 

 

"I know, baby," His voice cracked as he placed him in the ground —as careful as he was, the boy would still cry out and gasp painfully.

 

Peter's eyes were red and halfclosed, his chest was heaving up and down rapidly as Tony shrugged off his jacket and put it under his head, "Peter—"

 

"He shot me," He sobbed, tears mixing with sweat and blood as Peter brought a hand up to wipe his face desperately, "Tony, he shot—"

 

"Shh — you're fine," Tony couldn't fin his voice and he whispered, hands working the kid's sweater up slowly, trying to not touch hik or hurt him. He saw the blood trailing down freely, his thin belly was flexing and moving unconsciously; Tony shut his eyes for a second when he finally found the wound, he could see a small hole and raw flesh, it was close to his chest and just touching his stomach. A tear made its way down Tony's face, "You're gonna be fine, kid."

 

Peter raised his head and pulled it back down, groaning in pain, "It doesn't look that bad?"

 

"No, it doesn't, kid," He laid, taking off his long sleeve shirt and just staying with a thin one on, "This is gonna hurt, baby."

 

Tony placed his shirt firmly into the wound, pressing slowly, reaching a hand up and letting it Peter grip it tightly as he cried even harder; he started coughing and gagging, his body spaming as he turned his head away from Tony and spat in the ground.

 

" _No_ ," He mumbled in disbelief when he saw the boy's chin covered in blood, trailing from his mouth and onto the floor too.

 

"I can't breath," Peter coughed weakly and tried to sit down.

 

"Hey, hey," Tony stopped him from moving before he help him to sit up, "Hold this tightly, Peter."

 

The cries and gasps felt distant as he pulled the kid's back towards his chest as he rested his own in the nearest wall. He was panting as he finished dragging themselves over the floor until they were secure in a corner. Tony looked down and saw the trembling hand holding the bloody shirt close to his body and sighing softly as he leaned in completely his weight on Tony, resting tiredly in between his legs.

 

"I got it, baby," He said tenderly, hand over the boy's when he didn't let go. He pressed in more firmly and him close when Peter sobbed.

 

"Tony," He looked back at him with tired eyes, one hand gripping Tony's knee, "I'm gonna be ok?"

 

The man nodded and gulped slightly, brushing the sweaty curls away from his forehead and leaning to peck it longingly, "You will."

 

Peter coughed more, wincing and hissing as he doubled over slightly, "I'm thirsty," He said distractedly, resting his head back in Tony's shoulder.

 

"We're gonna drink water as soon as we get out of here," Tony wiped away with his thumb the blood from the boy's chin, "We're getting out—"

 

The boy shook his head, gulping harshly and raising a trembling hand, he touched Tony's cheek soon after, smearing the red liquid, " _No_."

 

"Peter—"

 

"I don't wanna go out," He whispered, " _please._ I don't wanna die in the cold."

 

Tony huffed in desperation, pulling the boy closer to his chest, "You're not gonna die. You're not — you'll be _fine_ , kid."

 

"It hurts, Tony," He said brokenly, whining when he tried to look down at his stomach, "I'm gonna die, Tony. I'm—"

 

The man shook his head, "Stop saying that, kid. We will find help outside."

 

"There's no one outside," Peter stared at him with wide eyes.

 

"Then  _here_. I'll call Rogers and—" 

 

"No!" He yelled, but soon after gasped and clenched the man's knee.

 

" _Shh_ ," Tony kissed his forehead again, "We'll be fine."

 

"I wanna stay here with you," Peter said quickly, "I don't wanna leave. Please, Tony, Let's not leave—" 

 

"Ok, ok," He nodded and sighed, looking at the dark stain getting bigger under the shirt, he turned his head quickly and caught the brown eyes fighting to not shut, "Hey, kid," Tony slapped his fingers softly on his cheek, "Don't fall asleep on me now."

 

"I'm tired," The boy said sloppily.

 

"I know. But, don't sleep, alright? —Let's talk, baby. Like we always do before falling asleep," Tony sniffed and wiped his face with his shoulder.

 

Peter gave a smile and nodded, "And then you tell me to 'shut up, kid and go to sleep?'"

 

The man laughed joyfully, eyes teary and frown disappearing, "That's right and then you'll kick me to stop snoring."

 

"Tony?"

 

He only hummed and caressed the boy's hair back, eyeing his face slowly, as if trying to admire every line and mole and he almost breathed out happily and Peter stopped shaking a little and his expression wasn't as pained.

 

"I'm not scared," Peter whispered, his hand left a trace of blood in Tony's cheek as he kept holding it, "I tried my best back there and I found you —and now, I'm happy."

 

Tony nodded and closed his eyes, he ignored achingly more tears falling from his face as Peter rested his head on his chest, "You  _are_  such a brave boy, Peter and everyone should fear you."

 

The kid whimpered and gripped the shirt against his wound, his body jerked a little and he hissed, "I'm so cold."

 

And he noticed until now how his lips were turning purple and his face was getting paler —he wanted to desperately wanted to search for help, but something, like an anchor held him back. Tony was terrified and he was a coward, watching the boy breathing with difficulty and sometimes spitting blood painfully. He didn't know what to do but he didn't wanted to move away from Peter.

 

Tony grabbed his jacket quickly from the ground and covered himself and Peter with it, leaning down once again and kissing his forehead and all over his face, feeling the freezing skin contrasting with his warm lips.

 

"Open your eyes, Peter," He mumbled, "Talk to me. Tell me about that comic that you read, baby."

 

Peter smiled again and looked up at Tony, "You read it with me."

 

"Yeah, but I don't remember," The man shrugged and pinched Peter's nose playfully.

 

"I like it—"

 

Tony watched with a frown how Peter started coughing again and his eyes seemed to be closing more at every passing second —his chest clenched at the thought and he suppressed the whimper coming out of his own mouth as Peter gasped for air.

 

" _Shh_  — hold my hand," He whispered, grabbing the hand on his knee and squeezing it softly.

 

"It doesn't hurt, Tony. I'm fine," The boy lied, voice strained.

 

"I know, I know," Tony nodded.

 

"I t-think —" Peter sighed, gripping tight his hand, "I'm gonna die, Tony. I-I'm gonna—"

 

"No, no," The man said firmly and shook his head, he started rocking him sides slowly and carefully to not hurt him, "You're gonna be fine."

 

"Thank you, Tony," He said, pecking kissing his hand softly once, "for always saving me."

 

"Keep talking, baby," Tony sniffed.

 

Peter brought the man's head down and pecked his lips hastily, breathing softly against him — Tony didn't care about the blood smearing on his face and the _taste_  of it, it was Peter's and he sighed when Peter pulled away with halfclosed eyes and a smile.

 

"I'm ok," The boy nodded, " _I'm_   _ok_."

 

"You are," He said, smiling sadly when a string of blood rolled in the corner of the thin lips and he wiped it away before Peter could feel it.

 

"Can I tell you something?" Peter's voice was almost unaudible and his body was relaxing slowly in Tony's arms.

 

"Of course, baby," He looked at the wall infront of them, eyes closing and he rested his face ontop of the boy's head.

 

Peter winced, body arching just a bit from another shock of pain as he panted and held his head low, "Wait, let me just—"

 

"Shh — rest down. Don't worry, I've got you," Tony whispered and the boy nodded, breath hitching constantly and chest heaving up and down, making his hand do so too.

 

" _Tony_."

 

"I'm here. You're ok."

 

Tony buried his face in the soft hair, inhaling to distract himself. He wait for a sigh to come out of the boy and then to start talking again, soft and tender like always did. But, the only sound was the wind blowing roughly outside and his breath huffing slowly.

 

He clenched his eyes shut tightly and shook his head once when his _own_  breath was the only sound.

 

Peter's body went limp slowly, head falling down on his arm and hands unclenching in peace, wet with blood and purple from the cold. His chest stopped moving and Tony's hand gripped tighter the shirt and Peter's sweater, _refusing_.

 

He gave the first desperate gasp in the night and opened his eyes finally, quickly looking down —hoping and expecting— bit he cried out brokenly when he found the boy's lost gaze looking at the ceiling, brown orbs still shinning but not blinking, his mouth was parted and Tony hope again for a small breath to come out of it.

 

But, nothing came.

 

He shredded a tear and choked up with his own cries and voice as he raised and arm and punched the floor, letting his knuckles crack, but he didn't care when he couldn't stop looking brokenly at the astray stare of the boy.

 

With a trembling hand, he closed his eyelids slowly and leaned down to kiss a last time the boy's forehead.

 

He gasped and raised his head to look at the flickering light as he found his chest contracting and he couldn't breath properly.

 

Tony mourned — He didn't get to hear Peter's last words and last breath.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well shit, I legit cried and had an anxiety attack while writing this.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Adios!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment your thoughts:)


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